Nightmare Ring
by livingdeadgirl
Summary: The makings of a most unholy union. A Nightmare on Elm Street-The Ring crossover. ::COMPLETE::
1. Prologue::Chapter One

Title: Nightmare Ring

Author: Kora

E-mail: KrazyKora@aol.com or WinterViolet24@aol.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following a character belong to Wes Craven, Gore Verbinski and all the other people and companies who deal with all that legal stuff. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment. 

Author's Notes: I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I wrote this. This is, without a doubt, the sickest most twisted piece I've ever done. I am actually mortified, but when a good idea comes I don't pass it up, no siree bob. I was trying to think of a good match for Freddy in my fear department and could only think of one and, ironically enough, she'd be a good match for him in the worst ways possible, especially when you take into fact that even Wes Craven himself has mentioned that Freddy was not only a child killer but a pedophile. I doubt anyone will read this, much less review it though, so I guess there are no worries. With that said, please take caution and read the special warnings listed below:

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: CHILD DEATH 

EXTREME WARNING: MENTIONS OF/SOME PEDOPHILIA

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Prologue

The sun was setting low in the sky near the edge of Shelter Mountain. It gleamed especially strong through the leaves of a tree nearby, casting out an eerie red light that resembled blood. Behind this, in the remnants of a destroyed cabin, sat an old stone well that jutted up from the ground like a tombstone.

It was dark and crumbled; vines wrapped around its exterior, clinging to it like twisted limbs. Moss grew out of its crevices and its stone top rested to one side, slightly cracked. 

There were no sounds anywhere - which was strange considering so many forests were near by. But it was silent. Deathly silent. No birds, no insects, no animals…nothing dared to disturb the peace as if, innately, all life knew what rested down in the bottom of the well.

For far beneath the surface, even though her body had been removed and buried long ago, an evil waited, resting with bated breath. It rose only when someone was foolish enough to dare and watch a particular tape. 

A seemingly innocent video that once viewed with human eyes declared death upon its owner. She had created it from her soul, a seed of her darkness that was to be spread about the world, among its populace like a disease.

For she had always wondered, in life and now in death, why she should be the only one to suffer? They had told her when she was very young that she was different…strange. 

They didn't understand. No one ever would. The blonde, Rachel, had tried and failed. She had given useless empathy and pity but she had not understood.

The things she saw in her mind, the horrible images…she had to hurt people, she wanted to and sometimes she was sorry…only sometimes. And so she had created her video, her masterpiece, and had spread her images so she was not the only one. So that everyone would suffer.

And so she rested until one day there _was_ sound. The crunching of feet on ground as the sun set even lower into the sky, the blood light from the leaves now cast perfectly on the well as if shrouding it from view. But the feet only drew nearer. And there was another sound…the sound of metal clanging together, the soft whisper of blades.

The blades whizzed out, dancing across the stone edge of the well with a loud clatter that sent up a small wave of sparks. There was a smoky laugh and the claws tapped rhythmically on the stone edge before drawing back. 

A man appeared over the edge of the well, looking down. His face was horribly burned, his head covered by a beat-up old fedora. He wore an old, tattered red and green sweater and on one hand he had a leather glove, its fingers made from long, sharp knives. 

A gravely voice spoke up, echoing down the well, "Time to wake up, down there!"

There was no answer coming up from the well and another laugh merely reverberate down as he snarled, "Come and play with Freddy."

At first there yet again appeared to be no response when suddenly there was a low rumbling sound. Freddy cocked his ear to one side, bringing it close to the open well. The sound grew closer and he drew back quickly. 

Water bubbled up from the well, pouring on to the ground. It was almost as if the ancient tomb was vomiting, liquid pouring out if its mouth and on to the earth. It continued to pour upwards for several moments, soaking the ground then, as quickly as it began, it stopped. 

There was nothing but silence and Freddy watched with twitching fingers, blades swishing together anxiously. His eyes narrowed, frustrated when suddenly a tiny, pale hand clutched to the lip of the well.

It was followed by a long, wet, slinky mass of dark hair. Another hand emerged; resting near its twin and slowly a dark head arose. A small girl pulled herself up and out of the well. Her white dress clung to her body - torn and sopping wet. She fell to her hands and knees, crawling out of the well as if the act was almost painful. Her fingers were curled, as if claws and dug at the fresh earth.

She rose to her feet and stood for a few moments, her wave of long dark hair obscuring her face from view. An evil gleam took Freddy's eye, as well as a twisted smile that showed his rotten teeth as she stood a few feet before him. In a flash she moved, right before him. Even he was taken aback by her swift movement. 

Her hair parted and all he could see was a graying eye - one that spoke deeply of evil in its purest form. But, naturally being of the same stock himself, he was unaffected, instead merely cackling with amusement.

"Sorry, death glare isn't going to work."

The little girl, apparently not expecting this, took a step back and looked him over. He was several years her senior and she seemed to finally notice his face. Her hair fell back in place over her face, the graying eye hidden beneath its depth. 

When she spoke, her voice sounded as if it was coming from far away, static messing with its reception, "You're all ready dead."

"Bingo, give the kid a prize," Freddy hissed, as if bored.

The girl did not react to him. Instead she continued, her voice devoid of any feeling, "Why are you here?"

"I've searched the bowels of hell for others who could be of…assistance to me. I've come across a few…one who failed me miserably and then there's you."

"What do you want with me?"

Freddy actually knelled down to her height, his hands behind his back, "I know all about you, Samara, I like your work. I really do. I especially like what you do to 'em. Their faces…priceless."

Samara was silent again, then, in another flash of movement, her hand was on his face. He was once more startled by the quickness of her movement as well as the action. Still, her hand touched his face as images flashed before her eyes.

It opened with blood and the ripping of flesh, bloody hunks of meat and muscle, sinew, bones and organs. She saw children - some her age, some older - boys, girls…there was no difference. She saw them fall before him. 

She saw his razors sink deep into flesh, she saw blood erupting like a geyser from a bed, saw human faces struggling under the flesh on his chest, saw his mouth elongate and swallow a girl whole. Him burning atop a woman, clawing at her as she struggled. Another girl dragged across a ceiling, a boy's veins ripped out and used as marionette strings. 

She dug deeper and Freddy could feel it. He knew what she was doing as she picked and pried her way through his mind and memories. He went to pull back but found himself stuck in place, as if a strength greater than him was in charge. This caused his demonic eyes to widen, whether in fear or shock it was impossible to tell as the little girl continued to hold him in place with one hand. 

She saw him alive - with a family. She saw the wife murdered at his own hand, saw his daughter run. He lured children to his side - young children. He was seductive, kind. He offered them such wonderful things - toys, dolls, candy and they came with him happily, trustingly. 

Boys, girls…once again, it didn't matter…though little girls seemed to be his favorite. This time they were young, all of them and he was alive and laughing, unburned and glorious, celebrating in his success. 

He held the children down in his boiler room or his cellar and he would touch them, smell their hair. Sometimes they'd fight and sometimes they'd cry but most of the time they were too afraid to do anything but let him have his way.

Then, when he'd had his fill, abated whatever he hoped to achieve, he would pull out the glove and he would slash them wide open, killing a few instantly, torturing others. Slicing. Dicing. Shredding children to ribbons and all the while he was gleeful.

Then the Springwood parents came and burned him alive. She did not see this time, but actually felt the fire - the burning, the scalding heat.

Her hand fell away to her side. Limp and lifeless. Freddy was still kneeling before her, waiting for her again and his patience was yet again rewarded with her voice, "I've seen what you do with…children. You can't hurt me. I don't dream. I never sleep."

"That's just it," Freddy tried to purr but came up more with a growl, "I don't want to hurt you. I'd never _dream_ of hurting _you_. You're what I've always wanted, don't you see? That's why I came to you. I want you to be a child of my very own. They are all my children, of course, but you'd be special. You'd be mine. My own, understand?"

There was yet again no response at first, finally Samara 'spoke' again. This time her voice was clearer and seemed to project inside his very mind, asking a question for the first time in her dead life, "Yours?"

"Its all about the dreams, Samara. We both use the dreams to draw them in. We both use the fear. We make them afraid but they can forget, I've seen them forget and when they do, we're gone. But together, we'll make them remember. What do you say?"

He removed one hand from behind his back, the ungloved one, and held it out to her. Her head turned as if she was staring at it, then the voice came in his mind again, "Your other hand, please."

Freddy's smile grew even worse as he held out his gloved hand. Samara's fingers reached out, playing over the blades. They did not cut her porcelain white skin, instead merely caressing them with cold, damp fingers. Freddy pulled the hand back, his claws reaching out and parting Samara's hair, revealing her face.

It was molted from water, bulbous and poached with veins sticking out brightly, skin ghastly greenish white and eyes an ugly gray. Freddy clucked his tongue in disapproval, "You have such a lovely face, you shouldn't hide behind your hair."

Something of a smile came across Samara's face, like flesh ripping open to form a new wound, grisly green teeth showing. Freddy laughed and snipped at a chunk of hair, drawing it under his nose and inhaling it deeply. His eyes rolled upward and then he edged forward swiftly, languidly licking the side of her face.

A childish giggle burst from somewhere and when he drew away Samara looked as she had when she was alive, pale skin fresh and unmarked, dark, bottomless eyes dead and flat but a tiny, malicious grin on her tiny pink lips. Freddy shrugged, "Whatever. I got what I want."

With that he rose to his feet and let his clawed hand dangle. Samara obediently took hold and together they walked off hand in claw. Freddy laughed as he spoke down to her, remarking, "I can all ready hear the screaming."

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Author's Notes: I got such a lovely response with the first half I thought what the heck, I'll write more…I mean, after I wrote the last fic (which I had intended as a one-shot) I must admit many an idea on how to extend it did brew in my mind.

I'm always worried about characterization you know, worried I'm writing Freddy all wrong but Lindsey Vesperry a.k.a A Nightmare On Water Street read my story and considering her fic 'League of Slayers' and another authoress, Nephthys Jeckel, were my inspiration to write Freddy fic I figured it'd be okay for me to continue, like a green light that I'm not doing all too bad. That in mind, here are a few more warnings…

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR FREDDY VS. JASON

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Chapter 1

The little girl's voice sang quietly, the words were hard to understand as they were uttered so quietly but the melody was still there…a haunting, lilting kind of song that could send shivers up someone's spine.

The girl's tiny body was swaying from side to side as she continued singing to herself, her hair covering her face completely, making it impossible to determined what kind of expression she may have been making…what was happening beneath the makeshift veil. 

Considering her current surroundings it wouldn't be hard to imagine that she should have had some kind of reaction. She stood in the middle of what appeared to be a large abandoned boiler room. 

Everything around her was bathed in red light and distracting noises kept sounding off every few seconds - the hiss of steam, the rumbling of fire captured inside metal, and then of course there was the scrapping.

Scrapping?

Metal on metal?

That sound was actually rather new and Samara heard it through her song. She stopped, her head titling to one side slightly. She turned and behind her stood Freddy, his clawed hand raking along a metal pipe nearby.

As usual, there was no reaction from the child aside from her merely turning away from him, as if bored by his appearance. The singing began up again as he approached closer to her. 

He towered behind her and she gave no inclination as to whether she felt it much less cared, continuing on with her song. Suddenly something clattered to the floor before her. The song stopped abruptly again, as she seemed to look down to see what he had dropped at her feet.

It was a cracked china doll, its porcelain skin encrusted with soot and its glass eyes long since removed. It had a few tufts of singed hair but its dress was torn and bearly on. It was strange to say that it looked almost sad in its state, its' once happily painted face now a mirror image.

A gruff voice sounded behind her, merely muttering, "It's for you."

At first she did nothing but eventually Samara bent down and gathered the broken doll in her arms, cradling it close. There were still no words spoken as Freddy continued to stand behind her, as if waiting for something…

For a long time there was no movement by either until Samara seemed to bend, turning to him, her voice sounded deep inside his mind. It was not necessarily a thank you but merely a whisper of sound; once again similar to the static heard when a television was on the fritz.

However, he seemed satisfied as he turned on his heels and walked away. Samara continued to hold the doll close and turned back towards the furnace door she'd been facing. She wasn't entirely sure what Freddy's plans were for her exactly. He had not mentioned them since he had brought her here, into his dream realm. 

He was showing her a measure of patience that, she knew from having picked inside his mind, was not characteristic of him. He was also being almost…kind. Gentlemanly would be a more appropriate term. She could tell that there was restrained anger beneath his burned flesh, an unabated need to torture and kill that for some reason he was not attempting to take out on her.

And she knew he wanted to. It was his weakness, the need to cause pain in others. Especially little girls and considering she was one, or rather, in the form of one, his abstaining was rather curious. True, she was dead and he could not truly do her permanent damage but there was much he could do if he wished it. 

There were many, many ways to hurt a tangible dead spirit and in essence that was what she was. In some ways, so was he, especially if drawn out into the real world. Her thoughts drifted to the masked one she'd seen. Her mind scan had been through, though there had been some moments she had taken as accessory notes, things that had been of certain significance.

The boy getting sucked into the bed was one.

The girl's head getting jammed into the television set was another.

She imagined these were most noteworthy not by her own standards, but by Freddy's. When she had been in his mind, looking through it, pulling out all his secrets as she learned about him those particular memories had been highlighted for her to see. 

They had been imaginative deaths that he had been particularly proud of for whatever reason. After all, if there was one thing she had discovered about him it was that his ego was another weakness. Nothing worse than vanity, especially when it was broken.

And the masked one, who had stood out whether Freddy had wished it or no, had done so. When he had come to her, he had mentioned others he'd seen. This one with the mask…Jason…he was one of them.

Freddy, in his normal egotistical way, had been proud at his devised plan to use Jason to kill for him, to bring him back into strength and power but this plan had back fired, both humiliating and angering him. Because once the zombie king had started killing, he refused to stop and if there was one thing Freddy despised more than being wrong it was having his victims taken away.

And so there had been a battle with Jason more the victor and she could only assume this was why Freddy was acting this way around her. At the well he had told her he didn't want to hurt her, that he'd never dream of doing such a thing but she knew that had been a lie. 

He could hurt her, he _wanted_ to hurt her but because of the Jason incident he refused to hurt her because he didn't want another set back. He could wait this time until he got what he needed - full power. 

And he needed her to do that, she was his key, he couldn't afford merely using her, if she found out she was being used she would have been angry and chosen to fight back, just like Jason, thus causing him trouble all over again. 

No, he had learned from his mistakes for the most part. He wasn't going to toss her around like a mere pawn but he wasn't going to let her go easily either.

Instead, he was offering her something more along the lines of a partnership. As much as it sickened him, he had to do so in order to get his way. With that in mind, he was playing the Mr. Nice Guy routine for all it was worth until she got whatever it was she wanted and agreed to help him, caved in essentially.

Her leaving the well with him hadn't been enough permission, she realized. He needed more. Needed her to ask him how she could help him, what she could do - what _should_ she do in order to free him and return him to full power. Which brought her to her own questions.

Why had she gone with him?

Why had she left the well, her home, and gone to his side?

It wasn't like she needed him, she was a successful, powerful killer. A vengeful spirit who had been working with no problems whatsoever since her death. 

Sure, Rachel had gotten away but the fail-safe she had added to the tape made it so that the only way to free yourself from her grasp was by damning your soul, by making copies of the tape and spreading death. 

So while Rachel and her kid had not died, someone else would in their stead, she still got to kill. Unlike Freddy, she needed nothing to fuel her, save her anger and poor souls viewing her tape.

So what was her reasons for being here?

What did she want?

There had been his flattery, of course. The things he had said to her at the well…she tried to convince herself that she had only bought them because it had been so long since she had heard any, but that was not true. She had taken to it because she had _never_ heard any.

Her adopted mother, Anna, had tried but failed. Hell, she had stuck her in a barn with the horses for Christ's sake and then Rachel…well, she'd clung to her skeleton and been all weepy-eyed for her but deep down she hadn't really cared, hadn't given a fuck at all really. She'd just been relieved at 'solving' the mystery, thinking herself and her creepy brat safe.

So it was his words that had drawn her in…he was, in some ways, charismatic. Probably why it was so easy for him to crop up in people's dreams by the mere mention of his name. That and the fear, naturally, it's own addictive quality.

And then she remembered him smelling her hair, licking her face…like one of his children. His victims.

And for the first time in her entire existence, alive or dead, she almost shivered with emotion.

She may have died as a child but she knew much about the world, almost too much at times. He had, in some ways, regarded children with much more than mere killing desire but also with sexual desire despite the fact that young children not even ten had no real experience or privy to these kinds of feelings.

It didn't matter to him however - five, seven, eight, nine-year-olds…he hungered for them in a lecherous way that was naturally sick, immoral, and disturbing to most sane individuals. 

But then, Samara couldn't quite be considered sane - not when she was alive, nor now when she was dead. And while she didn't claim to understand the reasoning behind his feelings she couldn't necessarily condemn them either.

In truth she did not feel this way or that about the whole thing. Why should she? 

So he liked to mess around with kids - kiss them, fuck them, kill them. Whatever. It was of no consequence to her. The only part of it that gave her pause was…well, the feelings. 

Considering she had not grown up she never did quite understand _those_ kinds of feelings. The feelings one had when the lights were off. Those feelings one had when kissing another, touching another….she had never gotten to that point, that stage, she had been denied it because she had been killed. Murdered. And by the mother who was supposed to love her no less.

She had never grown up and thus never gotten to experience what it could be like. In some ways, she almost envied the teenagers she had killed. At least they had gotten a chance to experience something that was supposedly so great…

Not that she was about to wax poetic about love and romance. Those things were dead. Beneath the hair her lip curled upward in a sneer as she took a firm grip of the doll's head and began twisting it, her movements ragged as her thoughts kept thundering on.

Those things weren't real, they were fleeting pieces of shit - no - pain, anger, blood…those things were real and they were eternal. The images she saw in her head told her so. Darkness, devastation, mutilation, horror…those were the building blocks of life.

Her fingers dug into the scalp of the doll, clutching like sharp hooks as she continued twisting, its' neck making tiny sounds of resistance. 

The images showed her the truth and when she had tried to share it with people what did she get for her trouble? Time locked up in a psychiatric ward against her will and eventual murder at the hands of the woman who was supposed to be her mother, who was supposed to show her those wonderful, trifling lies that life was supposed to be full of. 

Damn the living!

Damn them to hell!

They had to suffer, they _all_ had to suffer, everyone had to…

The doll's neck made one last feeble squeal, as if the toy itself was crying out in agony, then it surrendered, the head snapping off loudly. Samara's own head bent downwards, as if looking at the destroyed doll in her hands. Her hand was squeezing the decapitated skull of the doll; the glass beneath each fingertip slightly cracked from the pressure she had exerted on it.

The body was whole but its limbs limp, as if knowing its head had been removed and it was supposed to be lifeless…dead. She looked at the doll and knew this is how she wanted everyone who was alive to be. She wanted them all dead at her hands, wanted them all stretched and broken.

They had taken her life, her chance to experience every thing fully, her chance to grow up, to have feeling to maybe even try to understand them…

She had no sympathy for those treacherous bastards, for all of humanity in general, people who were alive had to die and it had to be long and painful, slow and torturous, because it was what they deserved. And why? Because she said so.

But her videos weren't enough, they didn't have enough of a reaching length, she needed to get more specific, more precise. In some ways, she did needed help as much as Freddy if she wanted to increase the body count, if she truly wanted to make everyone to suffer.

Suddenly there was clapping above her and her head moved again. Freddy was above her on a catwalk, his eyes glittering with triumphant approval. He leapt down to the ground before her, "I can hear everyone's thoughts here…_everyone's_."

He didn't need to say any more, she merely gave a short bob of her head to show her acknowledgement. So that was how he did it, hmm? How he knew how to scare his children to death, how he knew the perfect way to kill them and how to find them when they tried to hide. That was also how he knew what conclusion Samara had finally reached.

He crossed his arms as he glared down at her, the glint in his eyes still strong as he growled, "So…"

He waited for her to ask, practically salivating at the thought. Her response was to walk to the furnace and open the tiny metal door. She tossed the remains of the broken doll inside with a particular amount of relish, then slammed the door shut. 

She turned to Freddy and the hair parted again to show the graying eye, her voice came soon after, this time a bit more forceful through the static than usual, "What do you want me to do?"


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found on previous page.

Author's Notes: Wanted to thank all those who've reviewed! That would be (drum roll please): villainbabe, Fat Caiman, Invader GIR, pmad, Lena (Airelle Vilka), CarryTheZero, Gothic Blonde(India), George Smillie, Impatient mental patient, & (boy was I flattered) A Nightmare On Water Street!!!!

Now to answers some questions and/or comments from some reviews!

Pmad - Am I bringing any of the characters of the previous nightmare movies ie Alice or maybe Maggie/Katherine in? Well, let me just say this, in the words of Samara, EVERYONE will suffer…mwhahah!

Impatient mental patient and all other Sadako fans - I will make some references to Sadako's origins according to the Japanese Ring films but not much, basically because I'm too scared to tread on it and piss someone off and also I have my own ideas for where this baby is going. Things are a lot more tied here than one would think and while I imagine some readers won't like it, I'm doing what I think sounds cool. Hopefully there's an off chance it won't suck _too_ badly and people'll enjoy my creativity (yeah right, livingdeadgirl snorts and smacks her forehead). Since the American version a.k.a. Samara has less written to her and is more of an open book I can play with, I'm going for that. 

And now more warnings…

WARNING: MENTIONS OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR FREDDY VS. JASON

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

EXTREME WARNING: MENTIONS OF PEDOPHILIA

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Chapter 2

Seeing the graying eye, Krueger knew the girl had gone back to her dead form. And _what_ a dead form. He could almost feel his blades itching with the need to scratch at her. That pale skin, that tiny stature…she was young, so very young…but she lacked innocence. Oh yes, that deciding factor that made his children so irresistible to him.

It was the innocence he craved, the sweet little soul. She didn't have that any more, if she ever had, and perhaps that was the one thing that kept him at bay, that kept him from torturing her. 

That and the fact he needed her. Her earlier thoughts, the ones that he had heard so clearly, had been correct, he knew not to attack her because it would be as foolish as it was pointless. 

He couldn't give into his normal temptation to violence towards little girls where she was concerned. He needed her. Desperately. He knew the Dream Demons were growing restless with him…too many failures, too many fuck-ups. He couldn't afford any more.

If he kept pissing them off who knew where he'd be? Probably left to rot in the darkness of hell. They wouldn't help him anymore, wouldn't heal him and give him a handhold back up. Shit, they were hardly giving that to him now as it was - it was half the reason he had had to go to Jason in the first place. His 'bosses' as it were, were displeased and he had the feeling that if it kept up they might revoke his immortality.

The last thing he wanted was to be trapped in the darkness forever. To be kept from his children.

He spoke in a gritty tone, "I've been in that head of yours, I enjoyed my visit…even though all I got was this lousy T-shirt."

She didn't respond.

God, just like Jason. Another one of those silent types.

He shook his head, "Hey, not all my stuff is golden but give a guy a break."

Still nothing, he scowled, "Fine. No appreciation for good humor."

He continued undaunted, "You use your death to your advantage, you're pissed about it like I am, you're not some scared-of-what-caused-your-demise piece of shit like that pussy Jason."

For a moment Freddy was overcome by the memory of Jason, his congealed blood boiling. It took a moment before he was able to continue, "In fact, you and I have quite a bit in common. You draw people into dreams and make it effect them on the outside, like how you burned that Rachel bitch, you make nightmares real, something that falls into my arena. But I'm more interested in those videos…"

As if knowing what he was hinting at, Samara finally took up the conversation, "I make them using the powers of my mind. They told me that."

"Who?"

She turned to him and he got the feeling that the face she was making under her hair suggested he was stupid for asking, "The ones that give me the visions, the images in my head. I see them all the time. Any time anyone gets close to me, they see them too. That's why Mommy went crazy, why she killed me, why she had to die. Why they all have to die."

Krueger looked at her a moment, then his face split into a grin that showed his rotten teeth as he waved one razor in her direction, "I like the way you think, kid."

There were once again no words from her and he chuckled, the sound resembling glass being crushed under a boot, "Which gets to why I need you. We're going to make a movie. And you're going to be the star."

Samara turned to him and he once again felt as if he could see her face beneath the hair, see the look of curiosity. It was oddly satisfying to know he could cause her to have any kind of emotional reaction whatsoever. 

Because while Samara looked like a child, sounded like one, even acted like one at times…she couldn't necessarily be considered one. And it was not just because she was one of the undead now either. 

She was, in essence, a being entirely vacant of any expression. Feelings, emotions…she seemed to be entirely devoid of them. There was the anger of course, but even that seemed temperate, there was no remorse, no sadness, no conscious, nothing really. 

While Freddy killed for pleasure and souls, Samara killed because she felt it was necessary. Krueger was primarily interested only in his children; Samara wanted everyone, anyone, to her it did not matter. The whole world - every living thing on it - had to die. Had to _suffer_.

Being as she was, in some ways, made her the perfect cold, killing machine and Freddy couldn't help but be attracted to it. That was why he had chosen her to be a child of his very own - and, as an added bonus, she was going to help him get back out there - back to his children, back to killing.

He shook his head, forcing his thoughts to stop wandering and snapped his fingers. The dreamscape around them changed, turning into someone's front yard. Samara's head actually moved from side to side as she looked at the landscape change. 

The grass beneath her feet felt more than real and the house towering behind her seemed much more than a mere image. She could almost imagine going up the steps and going inside. There were four gold numbers tacked to the top of the portico roof above the front door. 1428.

Where had she seen those numbers before?

Ahh, yes, 1428 Elm Street, Krueger's favorite haunt. What was his obsession with this house and the women inside it anyway?

Still, his actions had impressed her, enough to actually motivate her to speak, her voice yet again containing that undertone of static, "You can do magic. Show me."

"I just did show you," he snorted, rather irritated.

In turn, she too was irritated by his short response, "Teach me then."

He shook his head; "A good magician never reveals his secrets."

Her hair parted enough to show both eyes now and the glare he received was enough to make him hold up his hands in something of mock surrender, "All right, tell you what, you do a good enough job and I'll teach you a little."

This seemed to appease her as Freddy put both of his hands on his knees and knelt down to Samara's height again, "I need you to pull that trick you did back at the well, when you looked alive, can you do that?"

The last words had not even left his mouth when in a flash she had transformed. He blinked and shook his head again; "You've got to stop doing that! Every time you pull the faster-than-lightning shit it hurts my eyes."

"Then gouge them out," she said softly.

He chuckled, "Like I said, like the way you think…"

He looked at Samara as she stood before him, the perfect picture of fake innocence. She wore her normal white dress but her hair had been pulled into two ponytails, her pale face slightly rosy cheeked, tiny pink lips pulled back in a timid smile to show a neat row of pearly whites. Anyone would have been fooled; she put up quite a show.

The only factor that gave anything away was her eyes. They were bottomless, a dark black…and in their depths what one saw…

Freddy, naturally, was unaffected, but if anyone else looked into those eyes - even if it was a mere glance - they would have been beyond frightened. Because in those depths was something far worse than death.

But since Freddy was unaffected, all he saw was positively the most delicious thing he had seen in what seemed like an eternity. Here was a girl not of his own design, not of his dreamscape. An undead little princess of destruction and mayhem all her own.

And the way her hair was pulled back into those ponytails, red ribbons…

__

Katherine.

For a moment it gave him pause, the resemblance almost uncanny. True, Samara was much paler but in all other aspects she did indeed bring to mind the daughter he'd lost. The disappointment he'd faced.

He had tried to remedy his loss of Katherine. He vaguely recalled trying to use Alice's brat Jacob and then later, even trying to reclaim Katherine again. But no, both of those children had failed him. Was he making the same mistake with Samara?  


No.

She was different, it was as he had thought earlier, she was not a creature of his own creation nor of anyone else's. She did not come from the enemy. She was all her own and she would be his if everything went his way. After all, she was, in some ways, all ready broken in. She had all ready killed, all ready had powers and used them…

She wasn't like those simpering fucks he'd messed around with before. Katherine, Jacob…they hadn't had backbone, conviction…they had been bogged down by morals, humanity, conscious - he wouldn't face that problem with _this_ child.

But he did face another problem. He wanted to hurt her. So badly he wanted to cause her pain and more than that even, he wanted to…

He licked his lips and tried to ignore the old sensations that stirred up inside his body. It had felt like centuries since he had had _that_ kind of stimulation curl up inside him. Being murdered and dead sort of killed your sex drive.

But when he had this little girl before him, dressed up like one of his children and so at his razortips…

Suddenly his head exploded with sounds, a fizzing sort of noise that resembled the static from a television set. He turned and saw Samara looking at him, eyes narrowed. _Oh yeah,_ he grinned, _back to work._

With a wave of his hand Samara flew up into the air. She did not struggle. In fact, she seemed quite compliant as twisted limbs emerged from the side of the house, wrapping around her wrists. Soon she was strung up, hanging from the thin columns that supported 1428 Elm Street's portico above its front door. 

Her head was bowed but raised slowly, her face impassive as he looked her over. His masterpiece, he practically trembled with anticipation at the sight of her there - this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. 

He couldn't afford pissing her off and losing her, especially when he was this close to getting what he wanted. But it was going to be very fucking hard, basically it was impossible to try to control himself. Especially when she was like this, trussed up, easy prey.

Ah, what the hell, he'd never been one to restrain himself before…he might let go just a little. Maybe she wouldn't even notice.

He flexed his fingers, listening gleefully as the razors swished out, "Lights, camera, action!"


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue but I must mention now that I don't own the song lyrics below, they belong to Korn.

Author's Notes: More comments to make first:

Agent A.T.: Yes, I supposed I DO mention Jason a great deal and I won't lie, there's a lot more about him in further chapters. The main reason I do so is as a comparison to Samara -difference in relationship, personality, etc as well as thanks to the new movie, Jason is now infused nicely with Freddy mythos. 

Now as to whether or not he himself will pop up in the fic, that I just don't know. I have seen all the Friday the 13th movies (same for Freddy films naturally) and am a fan, so maybe. 

I'm going to judge it by you guys. If you all want him to crop up, by all means ask for it! Also keep feeding me with reviews, nothing inspires me more than feedback in my e-mail box - it makes me happy! *^_^*

Now for the warnings…

WARNING: MENTIONS OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: MOMENTS OF PEDOPHILIA

------------------------------

__

How did it start?   
Well I don't know   
I just feel the craving   
I see flesh and it smells fresh   
and it's just there for the taking   
These little girls,   
they make me feel so goddamn exhilarated   
I fill them up, I can't give it up   
To me, I'm just erasing 

-Korn, 'Trash'

****

Chapter 3

"You start working on that tape yet?"

"Putting the images into order now…" Samara mumbled, eyes closed. She was still lashed to the columns of 1428 Elm, vibrant red blood was running down her cheeks like trails of tears.

Krueger had inflicted the cuts on her face. He could still remember the first time his blades has sliced into her skin. It had been like reaching the peak of an orgasm. However his look of overwhelming pleasure could only help but add to the show they'd just preformed. And she had been an impressive actress, crying and screaming and carrying on as if she were any other normal, living little girl.

He had tossed in his own standard gloating and posturing. He was positive it would inflame the blood of his victims, the people who the tapes were going to be addressed to. He couldn't help but laugh deep in his chest, the sound barreling out of him. Those poor bastards. They had no idea what was coming for them.

They had thought they had gotten away, that they had escaped him, beaten him…they couldn't be more wrong. He would have his revenge and while at it, he would return himself back to his rightful stature, back to his full powered glory.

He began to imagine all the inventive ways he could kill those fucks, they hadn't seen anything yet and now he even had a little helper. He turned to Samara. She looked so fucking good. Desire moved through his veins again in a spidery pattern, causing his breath to deepen.

He wanted to cut her again, make her scream again - but for real this time. He wanted to grab at her porcelain white flesh, dig his fingers into it, thread his blades through her dark hair.

Suddenly her eyes popped open, "It's done."

Freddy looked around, then flapped his hands, "Where's the tape then."

Her head inclined to one side, "In here."

He sneered, "I need the tape to send it out!"

"And you will have the tape, once I know where it's going and to who."

He charged up to her, snarling, "That's none of your damn business."

"It is if you want the tape sent. I project it to people. You want a certain person to watch it? Fine. But I need to know who so I can send it to them first."

A growl worked its way up Krueger's throat, this wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't how he had planned it. But if this had to be the way it was, so be it. Nothing was going to stop him now. He cleared his throat, "There's something of a list…"

"Give it to me." She replied easily.

Freddy snapped his fingers and a dirty piece of paper appeared. He held it out for her view. Her eyes scanned it up and down then she looked at him. She didn't breathe a word for a very long time, then, finally, the static-encrusted voice came again, "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

The glare on his face was priceless as he turned on his heel so as not to look at her. He wanted her to be his own, to be his child but he didn't like the way she was developing a smart mouth.

He was the one in charge here. She was his. A possession. She was in no way his equal and she needed to learn that lesson quick. Control. Dominance. Submission. Those things had to be etched inside of her. 

He hated partnerships. He preferred to work on his own. Alone. That was the way it was supposed to be. He was the Nightmare Stalker, not Nightmare Stalker and sidekick. He tried to yet again control himself. All he had to do was wait. Once she sent the videos out her primary job would be over and he'd show her who was in charge.

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

Hell, maybe he'd even do some extra torturing to her while he was at it. And this time he'd _make_ it hurt. This caused a twisted smile to erupt on his burn-scarred visage and he turned to her, razor blades twitching.

Still tied to the posts, chest wide open like an ancient virgin sacrifice, she looked at him. Those eyes seemed to glitter, the power held behind them rising up like a tide, a barely leashed animal of explosive force that regarded him with disdain. Yet nothing else about her showed anything, gave the slightest hint. It was flat, one-dimensional, empty. 

The blood had long since disappeared as had the red ribbon pony tails. Her hair hung long and limp again, curtains around her face but not yet hiding it entirely from view. This change was impressive. Somehow she had managed it without even untying herself. 

That Krueger found not only to be a little strange but suspicious. He was the only one who could control the dreamscape and bend it to his will, the fact that she had done it, transformed her appearance no matter how small, was of concern.

How had she been able to do that?

And without his knowledge, without him _feeling_ it even?

The first time she had transformed in his realm to make their film, he had felt it vaguely but this time there had been nothing. No hint of warning, not a thing. And that had only been mere moments ago!

This wasn't like Kristin or her friends with their stupid little dream powers. What she had just pulled was serious. Because it meant she had some sway in the dreamscape and he had not even taught her anything yet. 

She had asked him to teach her how to do what he did and he had shoved her off but now that she had just pulled her own magic trick he found himself more than a little curious. And little unsettled by what she had done, he didn't like the idea of her having leverage over him, some kind of control over _his_ dreamscape, he was very possessive about what was his. Jason had learned that one first gloved hand.

Just as he was about to question it, Samara spoke in his mind; "This wasn't necessary."

He blinked, caught off guard, croaking, "What?"

"The scene we just staged. It wasn't necessary. I could have just imagined what you would have done to me in my head and made the tapes just fine."

He looked at her in confusion and her shoulders gave a delicate shrug, "Just thought you'd like to know."

Freddy approached her, he could see the cords wrapped around her were biting deep into the white skin of her wrists leaving raw angry red imprints and he could see that while she had made the blood vanish the cuts he had inflicted upon her were still there. They were translucent now, as if water had washed the wounds clean but there was a slight purpling beneath, indicating she would have bruises, maybe even scares. 

He waved one claw in her face, "Then why did you let me-"

"Because I knew you wanted to," she said. Her voice was as monotone as usual but there was an underlying amusement there that could not be ignored, "Just like the red ribbons. I know what you like," she actually paused to lick her lips, as if deliberately trying to further entice him, "I thought I might like it too."

He drew ever closer to her, a mere breath away as he spoke thickly, "And did you?"

Only an enigmatic smile formed before she whispered, "I'm not like the doll, Krueger. I won't break."

A salacious groan left him. He didn't know what he wanted more. To hurt her or to _hurt_ her. There was such a fine line between the two. He was one in only a few who understood that precious fact. His eyes drank her in. She looked so very young to him again; she had to have been about six or seven, his favorite age for his more 'special' activities. 

His hand brushed her skin; felt how smooth it was, how soft. _So_ soft. He could smell her from here. Unlike his other children, she did not reek of fear but instead smelled so fucking sweet that his jaw clenched. He missed the fear, but this was good too. When he had smelled her hair before it had not smelled like this. At that time he had picked up the familiar, likable aroma of murky well water, dirt, grime, decay. 

Not this candy fragrance he was receiving now. It was surprising but then, she had changed her appearance, so maybe she could change her scent as well. And it was not unentirely pleasant. In fact, it reminded him of what it had been like when he was alive. Either form - alive or dead, either smell - rotten or sweet, it did not matter to him…he was just so damn _hungry_ for her.

And as long as he got what he wanted, everything was just fine.

But before he could do anymore, before he could come closer, he suddenly found himself lunging forward as she vanished out of his grip. He looked from side to side, startled and furious when he heard the static behind him. He turned and saw her standing there. 

Her hair was covering her face again and she was soaking wet as if she had just crawled up and out of the well, her skin rotted again. A childish giggle filled the air, "A taste is all you get…for now."

With that she turned and ran off into his world, going only Hell knew where and Freddy stood there, blinking, an issue in his body still unresolved. He was livid, beyond rage as he muttered, "Fucking tease."


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's notes: Wanted to thank some new reviewers: EnishiYukshiro & Danielle L. Bartlett, thanks for taking out time to drop me such cool notes! I'm glad so many people are enjoying this story, it makes me feel as if my hard work is actually paying off…

Lena (Airelle Vilka): There is indeed more to Samara than one would think. At least in _my_ fic there is. Just wait and see…ohhh I am so devious! ^_^

Also felt I should point out that this is the longest chapter in the story thus far (clocking in at 8 pages) and I hope to keep it that way.

------------------------------

****

Chapter 4

The Colorado skyline was the same glorious color as a peach's skin - orange blended perfectly with red and pink. Alice Johnson wiped the dirt off her jeans as she rose to her feet. The flowerbed in her front yard was coming along nicely this year. She set down her gardening tools and wiped a hand over her sweating brow.

She looked at the setting sun and shook her head, walking towards her back yard. The red barn door was open and in an enclosed fence her son, Jacob, was riding his horse rather hard. She leaned against the side of their home, watching as he encouraged the horse onward, his heels digging into its side.

The horse breathed harder as it approached its' first hurtle. Its' powerful hind legs worked like an oiled machine, pumping out a ferocious amount of energy as it made the first leap with ease, clearing the bars. It approached the next obstacle, this one a bit higher and once again, cleared it with no problem.

Finally it began its' approach for the third hurtle and Alice bit her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth. Jacob's horse had never cleared this particular jump, despite how many times he'd tried and this time, for her son's sake, she hoped they'd make it.

She could hear Jacob's voice, it was steady but slightly urgent, begging the horse to clear it this time. They drew nearer and nearer and Alice crossed her fingers. Just as the horse was about to jump it balked, rearing back. Jacob let out a cry as he fell backward, landing hard on his back as he was tossed off.

His mother cried out, rushing to his side as if on fire. She leapt effortlessly over the fence and was next to him in an instant, questions spilling out of her mouth like a torrent. Jacob shook his dark head in disgust, pushing her off, "Mom, I'm fine, Jesus Christ, stop hovering over me…"

Alice whipped out a quick hand to the back of his head, causing a sharp 'ouch' to leave him as she glared, shaking a finger at him, "Don't use the tone of voice with me, young man! Or that language!"

"Muh-oom!" he whined but she merely shook her head, arms looping under his to help him to his feet. The horse had trotted its way back over and had a rather apologetic look in its eyes. Alice took the reigns that had dropped down and patted its nose, as Jacob remarked, "Rick still refuses to do the jump. I know he can do it, I know it! I just wish he'd know it, you know? I mean who ever heard of a horse with self esteem issues?"

Alice smiled at the mention of the horse's name. It was an unusual name for a horse but she was the one who had convinced her son to name it after his deceased uncle. Hearing the name again, having it attached to a living being, it made the pain of her brother's loss a little easier to bear. She sighed, "Horses are not that far below people on the evolutionary ladder, Jacob. They think, have feelings…"

"I know and that's what I love about them but…I mean, we really need to get Rick in shape."

"For what? The tournament? Jacob, I know how much you want to enter and how much you want to win but it's okay if it's not this year, next year you can-"

He cut her off, "Next year? Next year! That's what you said last year and the year before that, no, Mom, we need to be in the tournament _this_ year and we need to win. If not first place at least second, the money…"

"Jacob, we're not that hard up for money. I know things have been scarce this year with the farm but…it's not all that bad."

Jacob shook his head, "You just don't understand, Mom, that money would really help. I know that and you do too and," he paused, running hand through his hair as he looked rather sheepish, "and I want to do this for you."

Alice couldn't help but beam, "I know you do, kiddo."

She drew him close and planted a kiss on his forehead, "And I appreciate it, I really do. But we'll be fine. I promise. And I know you do what you can and that's all I ask of you. Besides, you know your grandfather's still tossing in his two cents…"

"Yeah, I've seen the checks come in," Jacob laughed, "How is Grandpa anyway?"

"Good, good. He's been talking about coming to visit soon."

"Awesome, I can show him how much better Rick is getting. I mean, sure, he hasn't cleared the third hurtle still but he has shown improvement since the last time Grandpa was down, don'tcha think?"

"I don't think, I know," Alice laughed, "Now how about you go inside and make a salad, hmm? I'll cook us up some fish."

"Filet?"

"Yes, yes, no bones, Mr. Picky. Now get to work, hmm? And remember to toss in lots of tomatoes." She pushed Jacob forward and he went trotting off at full pace.

As she watched him go she sighed. It was so strange living all the way out here, she had never imagined herself as the kind to live on and manage a farm. A few years ago she wouldn't have even dreamed of it. She hadn't known the first thing about horses, cows, chickens, crops…but she had learned it all and enjoyed it far more thoroughly than she would have thought possible.

Being a country girl…it was rather pleasant. And it did give her a chance to do a lot of gardening. It was nice, giving back to the earth, doing something creative. It sure was better than working in some lousy Diner from nine to five. Not that she had imagined herself as a waitress forever either. 

No, wait, at one time she had, she could even remember it…

But she chose not to. She had put all that behind her. Buried her past, her memories, just as she had buried all her friends, her only brother, the love of her life, Jacob's father, Dan…

Buried it because of him.

She shuddered and rubbed her arms. No, no, she couldn't think of him. It did better not to dwell on her time in Springwood. Her time on Elm Street. Time with the Nightmare Man.

His name bounced in her head for a split second and it took all her strength not to let an anguished 'NO' burst from her lips. He was gone. Gone, gone, gone! He was dead and forgotten. She had to keep it that way, the same as she had done with her friends. 

She couldn't forget Rick and Dan because Jacob needed to know about them but the others she had dislodged from her memory. It was painful in some ways, to drop them like that, to force herself to forget. But she had to. She couldn't risk remembering him and the fear…

She may have defeated him but digging up memories would only dig up feelings and she couldn't lie and say she hadn't been afraid when she'd been in his grasp…

Freddy.

She shook her head again and began jogging towards the house, clearing her mind. No wandering thoughts, no more daydreams, and more importantly, no more nightmares.

------------------------------

"..and then Lindsey said, get this, 'maybe you and I can hang out sometime', can you believe that?!" Jacob asked excitedly.

Alice gave her son a warm smile, despite the fact that she was still uneasy by her earlier reminiscing, "That's great, sweetheart."

"Mom, are you okay? You've been real quite and you're - um - kinda pale."

She let out a breath and pushed away some of the blonde strands of hair hanging in front of her face. She tugged at her thick braid of hair and tried to lighten her mood, "No, I'm fine, baby. I'm just…distracted. Please forgive me."

Jacob nodded, dropping the subject but he knew something was wrong. In fact, something was always a little wrong. Every now and then his mother drifted off to some place in her mind where he could not reach her. He wouldn't have minded so much if it wasn't for the fact that she always looked so haunted when this happened.

He knew she had never truly gotten over his father's death. In fact, since he had died, she had not even gone out on a date. Not one. Jacob wouldn't have even minded if she had, in fact he encouraged her all the time to get out - to make friends in the very least. But she would always shake her head and say he was all she needed.

It was flattering but also disturbing. He knew something was wrong with her but she would never tell him what and he didn't have the heart to push it. He wished in vain that she'd see some man, get the love and attention she deserved, the kind he couldn't provide but she was steadfast to her celibacy. It wasn't easy, being a child without any kind of male role model.

Oh sure, he had his grandfather, but that was about it and that man lived miles away. Jacob had even tried to ask him once about what could possibly be troubling his mother but the older man kept his mouth firmly shut. All he would say was that Jacob shouldn't poke his nose too deeply into other people's business, his mother's life, was her own.

But how could he help her if no one told him what was wrong?

If no one opened up?

He knew his uncle had tragically passed away at a young age, as had his father, but he found it strange how the two people were hardly even mentioned, almost as if they were to be forgotten. Sometimes he caught his mother looking into the mirror in her room. She'd open the dresser drawer and draw out some pictures and she would start crying as if her heart would break. 

Jacob wanted to rush to her at those times, to hold her in his arms and tell her everything would be fine but he restrained himself. He couldn't risk her knowing he'd stumbled into something that was obviously so private, so personal. 

And it was strange, knowing that she had had him so young, that she had missed out on so much. He knew his pregnancy hadn't been planned, that much was obvious but it was also obvious he was not an unwanted birth. She loved him and cared for him and never once bemoaned about how it could have been.

She was as much his friend as his mother and it was nice having the balance. In fact, they hardly ever fought. His friends were terribly jealous, always telling him how cool his mother was and it was hard not to brag. Alice Johnson was a wonderful woman and mom, he couldn't have asked for better.

Even if he did feel at times that she was shutting him out, maybe even lying to him. He could vaguely remember when he was young how she would always interrogate him. Always wondering about his dreams. It was so strange that she would ask.

But she did.

Every morning that he could remember, from toddler up, she always asked about what he had dreamed about the night before. Most of the time she was satisfied with his responses, almost looking relieved as he told her about the dream car he'd driven or the pseudo shopping he'd done.

It had grown harder as he'd gotten older, he'd had to blustered and blush his way through explanations, not wanting to reveal his more personal dreams - the ones about girls. In time she finally dropped the whole thing, apparently appeased that his nights were normal. But why had she gone through so much trouble in the first place?

He imagined it tied in to the one, and only, time she'd asked him if he remembered some burned man. It had been such a strange day when she'd come to him, her eyes wide with some kind of unspoken terror. She'd clutched his arms, blue eyes blurry with tears and whispered, "Do you remember meeting me…before you were born?"

He'd thought her a lunatic and basically told her so, as much as it embarrassed and hurt him to do so. How could he remember meeting her before he was born? And some burned man? Who was she talking about? But she never elaborated, once he'd told her no and questioned her sanity she had changed the conversation effortlessly and at that time he had had no interest in pursuing it.

Now he did but he had no footway into that kind of topic. He didn't know how to bring it up without causing that look in her eyes to return. He could remember that time she'd asked - the fear there. He didn't ever want to see that on his mother's face again, he couldn't bear it.

And so he kept his mouth shut and they went about day to day in the same kind of cycle. Until today.

Jacob had gotten up from the table after his mother's shaky answer, sighing as he went to check the mail. He'd totally forgotten about it, but then, they hardly received much. Not to mention going to the box was a hassle, seeing as it was quite a ways down the road. 

Still, he couldn't stand watching his mother sit through another of her spells, so he pulled on his sneakers and began the jog to the box. The sky, which had earlier been so gorgeous, had now somehow changed to a rather ominous blue. He looked up to see clouds and wondered mildly if it would rain as he finally reached the metal box.

He was surprised to see several things jammed inside and he swiftly yanked them out, turning to start up the road to his home again. Thunder rumbled above and the first few drops began to fall as he reached the porch. 

He slammed the door behind him as he went inside. He made a beeline to the living room, purposefully avoiding the kitchen as he flopped down on the couch and tossed through several articles - most of it junk mail - when he reached a rather strange package.

There was no return address and it merely read his and his mother's name. He looked from side to side, wondering if she was still in the kitchen. He had gone straight to the living room, away from her because whenever she got into one of 'those moods' he had found it best to leave her alone until she was out of it. When she felt like talking and being herself again, she usually approached him, acting as if nothing had happened.

He felt the package over. It was badly wrapped in brown paper and he felt one lump inside. He wondered whether or not he should bother his mother with this piece of news. It was very unusual for them to get something in the mail, especially something like this and something addressed to not one, but both of them.

Jacob shook his head, figuring it probably wasn't that important. Most likely it was something his grandfather had sent and forgotten to address. It wasn't too much of a stretch, Mr. Johnson was getting on in years and did forget things from time to time.

With this in mind, Jacob ripped open the package (after all, it was addressed to him and Alice, which meant he had as much a right to open it as she did) and something fell out and landed on his lap.

It was a tape.

A blank VHS tape with nothing written on it, no markings whatsoever. He held the tape in his hands, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He turned it over in his hands, this way and that, shaking it near his ear even. Hmm, odd. Who could have sent this?

It was rewound to the beginning and weighed like any other tape. It seemed entirely harmless. Maybe some taped school event he did not know about? He couldn't remember the last school activity he'd been involved in but who knew?

He shrugged and looked up, seeing the television across from him. Thunder exploded outside, the sound of the rain growing rather loud now as he rose to his feet. Lightning streaked the sky and illuminated the T.V screen momentarily.

He walked over, tape in hand. He looked outside. God, it sure was pouring all the sudden. It hadn't rained this hard in what felt like a dog's age. Jacob watched the rain pelt down punishingly on the ground, then felt his gaze land once more on the television set and more directly, the VCR.

He clicked on the set and powered the VCR, channel 3 greeting him as the tube came to life with an array of bright color, awashing his skin warmly like an old friend. He pushed in the tape and then strode back to the couch, lifting up the VCR remote.

"What are you doing?" 

Jacob turned, startled to see his mother standing there. The look from earlier had disappeared and she seemed rather normal now as she strode over, resting a hand on the couch, eyes down on him as he rested, remote in hand.

"Nothing."

"You went to get the mail?"

"Yeah, I mean, after dinner I figured…"

"You don't always get the mail after dinner, Jacob," she sighed, folding her arms, "You forgot to clean your dishes."

He blushed, "Sorry, Ma, won't happen again. I just…"

"I know," she whispered, looking away, "I know."

Not wanting his mother to return to that far off place he offered a perky grin, "We got something in the mail, a tape, you want to see?"

Alice's head turned to him sharply, eyes wide, "A tape? From who?"

"I dunno but it was addressed to both of us, probably from school or grandpa or something, let's see."

"Jacob…" Alice was about to tell him not to push play but it was too late. The tape started to roll and channel 3 disappeared, replaced with static snow. Alice's heart was racing but she couldn't explain why. Nothing was happening, in fact, the tape appeared to be blank.

And then it began.


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: Thought you all should know I wrote this in a different kind of POV, tried to write it like you were watching it, that sort of thing. Hopefully it's more enjoyable that way 'cause that's what I'm aiming for…nice and freaky. Now on to review comments:

pmad - Will anyone survive? You'll have to wait and see! Though I will say that I am not a big fan of certain Freddy survivors (perfect example, Lori from Freddy vs. Jason) so if you're too attached to any particular survivor, you may want to stop reading now. Also, the following should be noted:

I am not a fan of Mary Sue's a.ka original characters (OC). If you see one I promise you they are only there to become cannon fodder and increase the body count. In other words, don't get attached because they will most likely get the axe by Freddy and Samara.

Since I hate OC's it stands to reason that they are not super well written. While I do attempt to write interesting OC's in my own personal fiction, for all intents and purposes here, the people I invent won't have had a lot of thought put into them and most likely will annoy/be of no interest to you.

Agent A.T. - I too miss writing Freddy and sadly neither he nor Samara will be back for a few chapters. Though that just means when they return it'll be a nice treat for us!

A Nightmare On Water Street - For those who did not know, I included Water Street in Chapter 4, she was the illustrious Lindsey. If you would like to see your name crop up in the fic, just let me know and I'll try and squeeze you in somewhere.

Also, while none of you may notice or care, I clipped the Prologue and Chapter One together. I re-arranged things because I couldn't stand having Chapter Five listed as Number Six and so on so forth, now all the numbers match up…am I picky or what? :)

And finally, while this fic and Chapter in particular are not the most appropriate place to address this, I would like to say here that I was very sad and disheartened to hear of John Ritter's passing. I have always been a big fan of him, as well as his son, Jason (Will from 'Freddy vs. Jason'), who will be featured later in this fic! My prayers go out to his friends and family.

And, of course, warnings…

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

****

Chapter 5

The static falls away and an eerie music begins to play. It isn't even music, more like a squealing, a record having the needle ripped across it or a metallic insect whining. It repeats as a shining white ring fills the screen.

This is shown for several seconds then cuts to show water rushing, churning but not like normal, this water is a dark torrent, a sea of blood. 

Fire blazing on screen now, all consuming all hungry, licking about as if it would burst out, the feeling of heat almost imminent on one's skin.

A finger getting pierced by a nail and then seven severed fingers in a box, twitching grotesquely.

A black screen is shown and far off in the distance are three girls. They are jump roping and their faces can not be seen, instead they are shrouded by the dark, their outlines visible as well as the fact that they all have curly blonde hair and all wear the same white bushy dress.

Following this is a woman brushing her hair in a mirror, she seems quite content but suddenly stops, looking straight at the screen as if seeing its viewer. Immediately after this is the figure of a little girl in the same mirror the woman had been brushing her hair in. Her long hair covers her face and she seems to float backward and out of view, into a grainy blackness.

Mad men, hundreds of them, all bunched together, grab at the screen as if trying to reach out. Their fingers seem ravenous, their eyes glazed and crazy as they mutter and mumbled along side the screeching soundtrack. Only one of them is understandable, singing over and over again, "Son of a hundred maniacs, son of a hundred maniacs…"

A head shaking appears; moving so rapidly that no face can be seen.

A bladed finger sinking deep into flesh, blood pooling around its entry.

Chinese symbols shown, written on something, some kind of paper all torn with several water stains. More water drops on to it and the ink runs, showing it was not mere ink, but blood.

Red and green stripes.

Water rushing at the screen, pounding into it, hitting it like sharp knives, showing its power and force, a might wave.

A freakish figure walking backwards, head screwed on at an 180 degree, obscenely flapping what appears to be broken limbs.

Dead horses washing up on shore.

A twitching light bluish green eye surrounded by burn scared flesh.

Maggots writhing then cutting swiftly to the same writhing but now instead of maggots it is bodies.

A broken china doll with no eyes, lying by itself for several moments then enwrapped in flames.

A woman leaping off a cliff to her death.

A man walking out of black shadows, his outline clear, he is wearing a hat and glove with long knives for fingers on one hand.

Several white, bloated dead bodies floating up and out of dark, murky waters.

The man is drawing nearer again, his movements are sneaky but in a ragged sort of way as he comes into view. He has on an old beat-up brown fedora and his face is horribly burned. He has light blue eyes and is wearing a red and green sweater, his one hand encased in a glove with razor fingers. He has the most evil smile on his face, showing rotted teeth as he tosses his head back and laughs.

A well surrounded by trees.

The man up close to the screen again, he draws back and behind him is an old house. It appears to be falling apart and lashed to its front door is a little girl. She is beyond terrified, eyes wide, tears escaping as she whimpers. Red ribbons are looped in her hair and she is deathly pale.

The man turns his face back to the camera, "Freddy's back. Did you miss me?"

"I want my mommy!" The girl cries out loudly, her look imploring, begging…

Freddy's answer is viciously wiping out, slashing his razor fingers at her face, drawing blood. He looks enraptured as the girl opens her mouth and releases a pitiful scream. The scream is cut short, as if the scene has lost its audio. But then Freddy drops his hand and turns to the camera.

He staggers forward again, almost raggedly, as he seems to touch the screen, as if trying to get out, he speaks, his voice gravely, "You can't save her. She's mine. I got her and I'll get you too, just you wait…I'll be among you soon, my children..."

The well returns to view and for a brief second it appears as if something is coming out.

But this does not matter because the tape ends, returning to static.

This is followed by a simultaneous scream.

This scream erupts not only from Alice Johnson, who has just seen the tape in Colorado, but also from Maggie Borroughs in Paris and Lori Campbell in Springwood, who both saw the tape at the exact same moment as Alice.

Their screams are cut short as their phone's ring. Breathing heavily - Alice, Maggie, and Lori, all in their three separate locations around the world reach for their phone at the same time, picking it up to answer with the universal 'hello' in a shaky tone.

The other end replies with the voice of a little girl singing in a soft whisper, "One, two Freddy's coming for you…three, four better lock your door…"


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: 

Pmad - Ooooooo! You asked a lot of interesting questions I get to answer!

1::You bet all the girls are gonna meet up, but let me give ya all a little hint now, while I'm introducing the girls thus far and focusing on them, I'm gonna let you know here there's a twist coming up…none of them are my main protagonist!

  
2::See? I knew you were a Maggie/Katherine fan! LOL! As if your fics weren't a give away, speaking of, you'll love this Chapter as it features her! But to the question, I wasn't exactly going to say he interfered with his daughter the way I think you're suggesting because I didn't necessarily want to shoot for that idea persay. 

In fact, when it comes to Maggie/Katherine, I write Freddy as being a bit torn - this is his daughter after all and he doesn't know what he'd really rather do - kill her or get her to join him a.k.a. corrupt her…though he is leaning towards killing these days considering she not only betrayed and abandoned him twice but blew him up!

Now, while he was a child molester, nothing was suggested (that I saw) in any of the films that he, in fact, molested her. This does not, by any means, mean it was not a possibility. On the contrary, I can see it but I have chosen not to use that idea at this time. Instead I'm taking a different approach as you'll see in later chapters.

Now our warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 6

Maggie caught her breath and tried to still her frantically beating heart. For several moments she stood with her hand clutching her chest, unmoving. Eventually her eyes fell on the same phone that had fallen out of her fingertips. 

It was an old fashioned piece affixed to the wall, currently hanging innocently from its cord, almost mocking her as it swung back and forth like a pendulum, the dial tone bleating out of it. She reached out and caught it, bringing it up to her ear. She twirled and twisted the dial, calling the number of her longtime colleague and one of her best friends, Doc.

The moment he heard the tone of her voice he knew something was wrong. She wouldn't elaborate, only begged him to come over. Soon enough he was at her doorstep and she pointed meekly to the television.

"I was eating breakfast and…the package came yesterday and…yes it was strange, sure, but I'm living in a foreign country for god's sake and it isn't like this is the first time I've received something strange in the mail. I mean, you know what we do over here, Doc, it's not unusual…funny things arriving for me in the mail or odd phone calls - it's all a part of my job. Troubled teens are never sure of how to ask for help, how to express themselves and-"

"Maggie, you're rambling, I don't understand you," Doc said kindly, "Now you say you received some strange package?"

"A video," she whispered, her hand dropping back to her side, "It's in the VCR…I can't bear to see it again but…I think you should…I need your help with it, your advice and - and I need to know I'm not crazy and…and," tears were in her eyes now, "I want you to watch it and tell me it's not true."

"Maggie…you're shaking," Doc replied with worry, reaching out and rubbing her arms, offering a friendly smile of reassurance, "Now it can't be all that bad."

"It can," she gasped, rubbing away the tears in her eyes, "It's my father."

Doc pulled his hands away, his face hard and serious, "Are you sure?"

"Just watch the tape," she said, pointing at the set again.

Doc walked over reluctantly. He pushed play on the VCR and Maggie squeezed her eyes shut tightly, covering her ears. She tried to block it all out but she could still pick it up in the background, fresh tears welling at the sound of the little girl's pitiful screams. The sound was even more harrowing the second time.

Soon enough she heard the familiar sound of static and a vicious curse. Doc turned and looked at Maggie, his sympathy going out to the woman who tried so hard to be strong. It had not been that long ago since he had become aquainted with her, since they had defeated Freddy Krueger, sending him straight to hell. 

It was during that fiasco that they had discovered Maggie had had a second life, that she had been born none other than Katherine Krueger, Freddy's daughter, his last known living relative. In the aftermath of that explosive situation, there had been questions to answer and mourning for friend's departed. 

When Doc had received a lucrative job offer overseas, he had potioned for Maggie to come with him and she had been more than eager to leave the land that had brought her so much pain and horror. 

In time, after a lot of hard work and much needed healing, she had managed to scrape her life back together despite how broken it had become. She had eventually made peace with her adopted parents who had lied to her about her background and she had even managed to bury the memories of her real father, the memory of him beating her mother to death.

She found a rather spacious home for herself in Paris, not far from the Eiffel Tower and had suffered nary a peep of trouble for all this time. Her work was fulfilling, she was making good money, and Doc lived right down the street, offering his counsel and friendship when needed.

And by simply pushing play on an unsuspecting video, she had destroyed everything.

Doc watched as she rubbed at her eyes first then her temples, at last she spoke, "God…he's back."

"I know what I saw," Doc gasped, "But I can't believe…he _can't_ be." 

"He is. I can feel it…I know it." She whispered, her eyes holding a haunted look.

"But we killed him!"

"Doesn't matter," Maggie breathed, suddenly exhausted. Silence reigned again as her hands now found their way into her short black hair, running through it, eventually she release the breath she'd been holding, "Okay, okay…get it together, get it together," she berated herself, "All right, so…we saw him on a videotape, what does that mean?"

Doc scowled, "It means we've got to deal with the fact that not only is he back, but he has power again. And a great deal if he managed to make and send this tape. How he managed to do so is mind boggling…he lives almost extensively on the dreamscape, how could he have managed to send this…maybe he projected it? But how…"

Maggie shuddered, "Did you see the girl? The red ribbons…that's directed at me. Right at me."

"The girl," Doc repeated, "Dear god! Do you think…"

"Don't even say it," Maggie begged.

He continued undeterred, "She looked real, Maggie and the way she was reacting-"

Maggie shook her head vehemently, "No, no that's not possible! He can't hold a girl in the dreamscape like that…"

"Actually he can," Doc said stiffly, "You managed to drag him out, Maggie. Who's to say he can't drag someone in? The girl fell asleep and he took her. She's most likely comatose from the experience now, conceivably in a hospital but still technically alive… trapped in his world, his - his twisted playground. "

He spit out the last part disgusted, "And she will be, until he wishes to release her. Which I get the feeling he won't. You heard what he said, he has her trapped in there and he's threatening to do the same to us, that's an open invitation, Maggie. He wants us to come after him, to try and save the girl."

"We can't…we just can't go after him, can we?" Maggie said, trembling, hating herself for giving into her fear, "We survived once but a second time?"

She shook her head once more, hissing between her teeth. "That bastard. Red fucking ribbons."

"It's really up to you, Maggie but I think…I think we have to do whatever we can. Yes, it's a trap, we know that but if he is truly holding a girl…and even if he isn't, even if it is one of his tricks, we can't just let him run around loose and free. He will kill again and having the knowledge we do…"

He paused, shaking his head, resigned, "I don't know about you, but for me the guilt would be catastrophic if I didn't even attempt to stop him and he killed some poor, innocent person. It's your decision as to what you do, but as for myself…"

Doc didn't even have to finish his sentence, and she didn't let him. She held up a hand, silencing him as she turned and looked at him then around her home, her nice little, quiet place in beautiful Paris. She had worked so hard for all of this. So hard for a good, normal life despite all that had happened in her past. 

And she was sick to death of her father, of her fears. She had worked too hard and too long to lose all of this now. With crossed arms and one raised eyebrow she said succinctly, "Pack your bags, we're taking the first flight back to Springwood."


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: Batten down the hatches! Isabel is on her way! LOL, okay, so I'm in a warning zone in the good ol' VA but hopefully none of you are and you'll be able to read this new update from your safe, comfortable God-I-hope-far-from-the-hurricane homes. 

We've still got a ways to go before Freddy's back and I'd like to assure those who asked for their names in print that they are more than finally placed in…thought they'll have to wait for later chapters! 

Also on that note, I hope you all are still in for the long haul, 'cause way things're looking, this baby is going to go past twenty chapters. So sit tight, pull out a bowl of popcorn and read like you're at the movies!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 7

It was a long time before Alice was able to calm herself. Jacob had tried to help but she had shoved him away. She had gone to her room and slammed the door. He could hear the commotion from where he still stood in the living room. He was beyond afraid by his mother's actions, her behavior. He had never, in all his life, seen her like this.

She was completely freaking out. Irrational. Mad. Squawks came from behind her door, it was obvious she was trying to contain her hysterical screams, instead choosing to throw things. Breaking glass kept sounding off and once Jacob managed to get feeling into his legs he moved to her door, pounding on it, calling out to her in worry.

His voice was filled with tears as he began sobbing, so worried for his mother but she refused to respond. Eventually he sank to the floor by her door - exhausted and waiting. It felt like an eternity before he fell backward.

His eyes opened and he realized he'd fallen asleep waiting for her. She looked down at him, eyes red-rimmed from crying, hair loose from its hold, frayed and clouded around her head. She was the picture perfect ideal of a psychotic woman.

Her voice was a croak when at last she spoke, "Sit up."

Jacob did as he was told, rising to his feet. He looked behind her and could see her room was in a shambles, torn to shreds. Her bed mattress tossed to one side, the dresser and its mirror lay on the floor, both broken. Pictures were littered about and he knew them immediately as the pictures she used to always look at.

"Come in," she said mutely and once again, he obeyed.

He moved about timidly, trying to avoid the broken glass. She stomped through it, not caring. She turned to him and with a flourish sat crossed legged on the floor. He followed suit, sitting across from her. Alice picked up one picture and tossed it at him, "That's your father."

Jacob looked at the picture. He'd seen the face before naturally but it was still nice to see a new photo. In this one Dan looked even more happy than usual and this was because Alice was in his arms. They were both smiling, the sky behind them bright as they clung to one another in a park somewhere.

She tossed another picture at him, "And this is your uncle, Rick, the girl with him in the photo was my best friend, Kristen Parker. They were dating. Back then my hair was more auburn, she was the blonde. Because of her I dyed my hair, took up smoking for a while."

Jacob didn't know how to respond to this and didn't have to, instead Alice began tossing even more photos at him, "And here's Sheila and Debbie. Greta, Mark…"

Each picture came at him faster than the next and Alice was shaking, "They were my friends and now they're dead…THEY'RE ALL DEAD!"  


The scream escaped from her throat so violently that it ended with a choked sob, her hand clutching her aching vocal chords, "He killed them…he killed all of them…everyone I've ever loved…"

Alice's hands went to her face, cupping it as body-wrenching sobs took her. Jacob tossed aside the pictures and pulled his mother into his arms awkwardly. He was agitated, not knowing how exactly to comfort her. He'd never seen her this way and it frightened him. But he took in a deep breath, trying to keep his head. It was strange to talk to his mother like she was a child as he whispered weakly, "Mom…who killed them?"

She didn't answer, instead she clutched at him, holding on for dear life. He was her anchor after so many years of pain; she needed him to be strong. Luckily he knew this and managed to try and do so as he asked again, "Mom, who? You told me Dad died in a car accident…"

"No," she howled low in her throat, "No, he was murdered. Just like your uncle was murdered. Like all my friends were murdered. He did it, that fucking bastard…he killed them all!"

Jacob felt as if he was at the end of his leash, it was too hard to pretend he was strong as his mother crumpled like a paper-cut out doll before him, he released her as if she was burning him, his voice sounding almost disgusted as he spit, "Who, Mom?! Who the fuck-"

"KRUEGER!" she bellowed, her fists hitting his chest, "Freddy fucking Krueger that's who! That - that monstrosity in the video…goading me…"

Suddenly something dawned to Jacob, it was like all the lights in his head were turned on for the first time as he whispered, "The burned man…"

Alice nodded meekly, fresh tears escaping, another sob working its way out, "Yes, him, he…"

Jacob nodded, cutting her off, holding up a hand. His head was still spinning, exploding with new knowledge as he said under his breath, "I recognized him."

Alice stopped crying immediately, eyes wide in horror, "What?"

"When we watched the video…I recognized him. I thought it was strange but-"

"Oh no…" she moaned, "Oh no, oh no, oh no…"

"He's the one you've been asking me about all this time. He's the one who makes your face darken the way it does sometimes, you remember him murdering your friends, don't you?" Jacob asked but it was like he was hearing his voice miles away from himself.

Alice didn't answer, still too grief stricken. Jacob drew in a breath and rose to his feet again. He looked down at his mother. Here she sat in her memories and the wreckage of her life. He felt sad but he also hated to admit he felt pity and worse than pity, anger. She was so weak. Why couldn't she have trusted him? Why didn't she tell him the truth?

When he spoke he felt his lips move but felt like he wasn't the one saying them, "I'm going to the kitchen. I'm going to make us something to eat. You're going to clean this up, fix yourself up, and then you're going to come out there and tell me the whole story."

With that said he turned on his heels and walked out, leaving a broken woman to collect herself despite her overwhelming fear.

------------------------------

"…and I thought I had defeated him. I thought it was over," Alice breathed, concluding the story. It had been hours since she had started but Jacob had listened with bated breath, not interrupting, not even once with any question or comment. He just listened, fixated as his mother told him the entire story behind Elm Street, Freddy, and the nightmares.

So many had died and so horribly…

Alice cleared her throat, "When it was done I convinced Dad to move. He found a job out here and when I gave birth to you…I decided to forget it all. To bury it. I couldn't risk Freddy coming back because of my fear. He feeds on fear and souls, they give him power and I just couldn't…so this seemed the best alternative. I wasn't sure if you remembered the whole situation regarding your conception so I tiptoed around it lightly and when it looked like you hadn't, I let it go. I couldn't risk dream walking; I haven't touched the dreamscape in years. Haven't called anyone into my dreams or anything. It took me a long, long time before I even managed to sleep anyway and when I did…"

She shook her head, "There were no nightmares, no dreams…I rubbed them out. I haven't had either in years. All I do is fall asleep and wake-up, no in between, and I want to keep it that way. I can only figure my will power has protected me or maybe my dream abilities have changed but…I've been safe and so have you."

Her hand rested on her forehead and she looked incredibly tired as she whispered, "But now it's coming apart again…he's back. I should have realized the second time, you can't stop this maniac. Some how, some way…he keeps managing to come back."

"And now he's got a hostage." Jacob added.

Alice looked at him with narrowed eyed, confused, "What?"

"The girl in the video, you heard him, he said he got her…"

"Honey, he was lying," she said simply as if the suggestion was silly to even bring up, "He has complete control over the dreamscape, makes all kind of illusions, that girl…"

"Do they normally scream? Bleed?" Jacob pressed.

Alice shook her head, suddenly agitated by his suggestion, "No, no…it has to be fake, he couldn't possibly…I mean it's a trick. He's trying to lure me back in, see? He wants me dead, he always has. He can't stand not winning, he-"

"Did he send the video?" 

"I - I don't know. He must have."

"How?" Jacob scoffed, "He's dead. You said so. He only lives on this dreamscape in his nightmare realm. How could he send us a tape?"

"I - He must have found some way." Alice answered, her hands running over and over one another as if she were washing them clean. The girl's face popped into her mind - she'd been so young, so deathly pale and the look of fear in her eyes… 

Those eyes. They surfaced in Alice's mind. They were so bottomless but there had been fear, hadn't there? There was no way she was going to watch the video again to double check. Besides, she knew it had been fear, what else could it be? The pitiful scream the child had released echoed through her mind again. 

But Freddy had to have made her, produced her in the dreamscape, one of his twisted fantasies. He had done it before, the jump roping girls singing the rhyme was a common illusion, all he did this time was invent a new one. He had to have. She couldn't for a second believe some poor, innocent girl was being held captive - alive - by that monster…could she?

And in the dreamscape? Was that even possible?

Part of her deep inside was nagging her, telling her it was completely possible. It was especially bothersome because this part of her she referred to as her 'Kristin side'. It was the same part of her that had encouraged her to dye her hair, to take up smoking…in fact she had little parts all inside her that were named after the others who had died around her. The people she'd loved. Sometimes the Rick side of her wanted to practice martial arts and the Sheila side of her wanted to invent something - anything. 

The fact the Kristin side of her was rearing up so strongly at the suggestion that someone had been taken hostage in the dreamscape worried and frightened her. Deep down she had the feeling that somehow not only was it possible but that it had happened before and what's more, it was happening again.

"MOM," Jacob said loudly, snapping her from her thoughts. His dark eyes were intense as he spoke, "Stop daydreaming, all right? I need you to stay focused. Now, say Freddy _did_ send the tape, say he even made the girl…doesn't that mean that he's back? That he has power again?"

Alice swallowed, "Yes, we agreed on that all ready."

He sighed, "Then if he has strength again he's going to come after us, whether you want it or not. He probably sent the video to scare us, that's obvious, conjuring up the fear will make him stronger and us weaker but not only that, it's a warning."

Alice sat up, back straight as she looked at her son with sudden interest. He sounded far beyond his years as he spoke, but then, she'd never put intelligence past her boy. He was beyond bright at times, and very logical when it mattered and lord knew it did now, "What are you suggesting?"

"Maybe the girl isn't real or maybe she is, that's not the point. The point is, is that if he's back, he's going to be worse than ever. You told me yourself the second time he came back he had a brand new bag of tricks, Jesus Christ, he even killed Dad and the thing you told me about Greta and her…ugh…last meal? Yeah, well, I imagine this time around it's for keep's."

"Jacob-"

"No, let me finish," Jacob stressed, "Mom, this guy wants you dead. And he wants me dead too. That's why he sent the video, to let us know that and let us know that this time around its going to be even more awful and - and I think the girl represents something."

He paused, licking his lips and scratching the back of his head. It was obvious he was nervous to continue. 

His mother had been through enough and he hated to hurt her more but he knew the truth had to be told as hard and painful as it was, he barreled on, "He's not going to come for us first, Ma. He's not the type to go directly to you. Remember? He'll hold back, wait, he'll torture us by killing our friends, playing with our heads. He's going to go and kill innocent people and if we don't stop him, Mom, if we don't go out there and try to take him down, it's going to be our fault. Blood will be on our hands, do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Alice ran a hand over her mouth, shaking, "You're saying…"

"Mom, you have to go home, you know that's where he's headed if he's back. We have to go back to Elm Street."


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: Hey all, storm didn't eat me up too bad but I did go for power without a while. Glad to be back and posting new chapters! Now for my comment-os!

I don't know if I ever thanked Katherin Kruegers Evil Twin for reviewing, if not, than thank you!

pmad - Nice try but it isn't Rachel, you'll see soon enough who I'm pushing forward…though I will say Samara herself will get a lot of showtime soon enough.

CarryTheZero - Yeah I know! It was only supposed to be a one shot, gosh darnit! But people showed enough interest to get me inspired and I have to admit, writing this is fun!

Agent A.T. - Here's Lori's reaction, though I might add in here again that Lori fans should be warned, I do not like her and while I write her somewhat objectively my obvious bias is in there. Also give the sign up for 'Mary-Sue alert'! We've got one lurking in here.

Danielle L. Bartlett - More talking in here I'm afraid but next chapter holds some cool actin, promise.

Also I recommend everyone see 'Underworld', soooo good! And the soundtrack? It's like but-uah! ('Butter' for those who haven't seen Mike Myers; old SNL gag 'Coffee Talk')

The warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 8

Lori Campbell watched her paperweight smash into the television set, knocking it over with a loud triumphant crash. Her arm hummed from the action of having thrown it with such force. God, this had to be a dream. No. Not a dream. _Never_ a dream. All it was, was another nightmare.

She had had too many of those. Ever since the day her best friends died…Kia, Gibb-

In the end all she had had left were her father and the man she had thought to be the love of her life, Will Rollins.

Will.

The thought of his name made a shaft of pain shoot through her system as well as caused an errant snort to escape her. Will, the love of her life? She had thought so once, and so adamantly. But it turned out not to be. The stress of what had happened over their time apart, the mess that was their pasts…it was too much for either of them. Things cut too deeply.

Shortly after Freddy and Jason's apparent demises, things seemed almost picturesque for Lori, as if the whole mess had never happened. She and her father moved out of 1428 Elm but not Springwood.

No, instead they moved towards the edge of town, allowing Lori to finish up high school and prepare for a short semester at Springwood U before transferring to the college of her dreams.

In that time she and Will grew very close, they even lost their precious virginity to one another and it seemed too wonderful to be real. Once again, a dream. But she should have learned by now, after everything that had happened, that dreams aren't real and they certainly don't come true.

The pain of losing her two best friends, Gibb and Kia, turned out to be more of a devastating burden than she had realized. And then there had been the unconscious fear of Freddy, that some day, some when, he would return.

At that time, sleep had become such a chore, was it her fault she had turned herself fully over to Hypnocil? She could vaguely recall when her father had tried to sneak the pills to her. Now she knew better. She _knew_ she needed them

Her father had recommended them after all, and he was only looking out for her welfare, for the welfare of all the kids in Springwood. That was why he had done what he had done in the first place, medicating so many, being a consultant for Westin Hills. He didn't want anyone else to end up like his wife, Lori's mother, murdered at the gloved hand of that dream walking sociopath.

True, she didn't condone his lying to her, much less his locking Will up and not telling her about it, but in the end she had begun to understand it all from her father's point of view. He cared so much; he loved her so much and couldn't bear to be without her, just as she couldn't bear to be without him.

And the mere thought of Freddy…

No, Hypnocil had been her only answer, was still her only answer. She had easy, free access thanks to her father. She got as much as she needed and it helped her to finally get some much deserved, dreamless rest. It was perfect.

Or it would have been perfect. But there were side effects of the drug. Nasty ones. She was often grouchy and sluggish, snappish and cold. She started taking out this aggressive nature growing inside her on Will. He didn't appreciate it.

He had had his own troubles, his own losses. Mark and his time in Westin Hills, neither had ever allowed him to fully settle back into normal life. He was as desolate as she was and soon enough they began tearing away at one another.

And one night, with tears in his eyes, Will had told her he didn't think it wise for them to see one another anymore. He had stood there, trying to sound oh so sorry, as he'd broken her heart. He had assured her it was the best for both of them, that they would heal better without one another.

He also told her he was taking a stand; she had to stop using Hypnocil. He said she was addicted and if she wasn't careful, she'd land in a coma like the patients in D Wing. So he'd left it up to her, the Hypnocil or him.

As if she had a choice. She couldn't risk Freddy returning, so by her own volition, their relationship ended. She had had to start all over. But she had dealt with it, given herself time and now here she was, this close to completing her first full semester at Springwood U when this happens.

She had thought it to be another sorority prank. Living in a dormitory was never an easy thing, in some ways it was dangerous to your health and all because of the ridiculous pranks that spread around like wild fire. Lori had been subjected to everything from condom water balloon bombs to tabasco sauce in her coffee. It was like an endless slumber party.

When the badly wrapped package had arrived with its blank VHS inside she had merely assumed it was another one of these. She stuck it in the VCR, half expecting a porno to show up when she had been greeted with static and then a glowing ring. And the images following…so horrible…

And then him.

Freddy, the man who had slaughtered her mother, her friends, who had destroyed her life…

Her fears of his return were finally validated.

But he was supposed to be dead! She had decapitated him for god's sake! Lobbed his head clean off with one powerful thrust! She had thought herself incapable of such a thing until she'd been in the position, until she had held that machete strong in her hands and swung. It was for her friends, for her mother, for everything and she had been proud. Glorious. She had exacted revenge, vengeance and now…

The video had to be a joke. Had to be, would Will…

No, no despite what she thought of her ex-boyfriend he wouldn't have done this. True, they went to the same school but she had avoided him on campus like he was the plague and he had done the same. Every now and then she glanced his way and he would do so to her. She had caught the sorrow in his eyes but there was no regret. He still felt he was doing the right thing.

Well fuck him!

Freddy too!

Hot tears welled up and she let out a tiny gasp as she flopped down on her bed. She drew a stuffed toy bunny to her, hugging it tightly when suddenly her roommate entered, "Hey, Lori, ya okay?"

Lori looked up and saw Paige Bettens standing there, concern on her petite features. Paige was the first person Lori had felt at all close to since everything that had happened. At first she had been reluctant to make new friends, afraid to lose them all over again but Paige had helped her get over this impediment. 

Paige was from the south, which was evident upon hearing her speak, the southern twang affixed firmly in place. She was very skinny, bony beyond reason and one of the tallest girls on Campus. Her hair was blonde but not like Lori's. It wasn't rich or bouncy with its curls, instead it was more like weighted down straw.

The best example would be to say she looked very reminiscent of Sissy Spacek in 'Carrie'. But she was funny and a good person and Lori had come to depend on her a great deal since losing Will. Sure, her break up had been almost a year ago but she still needed a shoulder to cry on, a person to understand. 

"I'm fine," Lori whispered, easing up on the bunny.

"Good Lord, all mighty! What happened ta th' TV?"

"Oh - uh-huh - sorry," Lori muttered.

"If ya don't like the program, Lor, jus' change th' channel," Paige laughed.

"It wasn't that, it was…"

Paige rolled her eyes, "Not Will again."

"Huh?"

"Come on, gal, I know ya and ya gotta one track mind. It's been almosta year and yer still hung up on Mr. Tall-Dark-N-Handsome. I've seen ya shooting eyes at him when we've been in th' Quad. Ya try hard ta hide it but I've caughtcha."

"Paige…"

"Jeez, Lori, I thought we talked about this all ready. The guy was a jerk! Forget him an' move on. How many times I gotta tell ya-"

"I know, Paige, and I have been moving on, I have been on dates, you know." Lori muttered, "And I mean, Will broke up with me…and for no good reason, I mean, god," she shook her head, "But that's not why I'm upset or why I broke the TV, I thought I…there was something I saw that got me upset."

"This," Paige paused, apprehensive, "This wouldn't be because of those pills…would it?"

Lori shot her a piercing look, "Excuse me?"

"It's just - um - I mean," Paige bit her bottom lip, "Lori, girl, ya know I love ya. You're my best friend here but…I mean, it's just…I've seen you popping those blue pills and ya sleep almost all the time and I know your grades are dropping and-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Lori said stiffly, wanting to change the subject.

"Okay, okay, I just," Paige held up her hands, surrendering, "I know somethin' musta happened that ya don't want ta talk ta me about an' that's fine. I understand that, yer private life, yer past is yer business. I mean after all this time I don't know everything about ya and ya don't know everything about me but still… I wish ya'd open up a little, Maybe I could help ya better if…"

"Trust me, Paige, you don't want to know," Lori muttered, tossing the toy aside as she rose to her feet and wrapped her arms around herself. She looked out their window and down on to the campus lawn.

A bunch of frat boys were running around, shooting whipped cream at each other and the full moon was glowing down. If she was anyone else, tonight would have been beautiful, fun, full of promise…

Instead all she saw, all she felt, was dread.

"Lori, I know ya may not want ta hear it but…can I give ya some advice?"

She turned to Paige and tried to drum up some kind of smile, "Yeah?"

"Talk ta him."

A choked sound left her throat, her eyebrows raised high, "You can't be serious…"

"Ya still got unresolved issue with Will, so resolve 'em. Maybe then ya can finally move on. I mean all the dates you've been on haven't been raving success…"

"That's because so far I've only seen losers! Disher, Jon, Max, Greg, Phil, Tyler…"

"Now back up there," Paige laughed, "_I_ set ya up with Tyler and he wasn't that mucha ofa failure if I remember rightly. 'Specially considerin' he was the most recent. When ya came back from that date ya wouldn't even tell me what had happened, ya just had the grin on your face…"

Lori blushed with memory, "Okay, I'll admit, Tyler wasn't that bad…"

Paige giggled, "Good, 'cause he called and I said you might jus' be interested in a second date!"

Lori gasped, astonished, "No, you didn't!"

"Did."

"OH…you!" Lori couldn't help but laugh as she grabbed a pillow and began to pelt Paige with it. A short pillow fight ensued with both girls laughing. Once they calmed down Lori was red faced and shaking her head, "I can't go on a second date with Tyler…"

"Why not? Ya said the first one wasn't that bad. Okay, well, ya didn't quite say that. Like I said, ya didn't say much at all but-"

"Tyler was good, Paige. I won't lie. I did have a generally good time with him and he's not a bad guy, in fact he's real sweet _and_ good looking but…"

"Come on, don't leave Tyler in th' lurch, hell, don't leave yerself in th' lurch. Don't do this to yourself anymore. Finish that unfinished business. Talk ta Will. Please? If not for yerself, then for me…and for our busted TV."

Lori couldn't help but laugh again but her heart was sinking as she looked at the TV. Her mind flashed to Freddy. To those horrible things she'd seen. To the girl. She couldn't tell Paige about that. She wouldn't understand, much less believe her.

But Will would.

And if Freddy was back, he deserved to know. No matter what he had done to her, he at least deserved that. She had her Hypnocil to protect her, she knew Freddy was trying to scare her but as long as she had her pills, she was safe. But Will would be defenseless, doomed.

She sighed, "Okay, I'll talk to him."

"Awesome! Now let's clean this mess up," Paige said and began working over the TV.

Lori joined her side, thoughts still on Freddy. Yes, she had to talk to Will, because if the video was real and true, then Freddy was back and with more power than ever before.


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: AT LAST!!! The return of Freddy/Samara, promise to keep them around more in the future but we had to get through the mess of introductions – got to line up all my pins before I go bowling, you know?

More warnings…

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: MOMENTS OF PEDOPHILIA

------------------------------

Chapter 9

No one laughed quite like Freddy Krueger.

It wasn't even a laugh so much as a cackle. A maniacal chuckle that some how managed to reverberate through everything and paralyze your insides with fear. 

Unless, of course, you were Samara Morgan, who merely looked at him with her head cocked to one side. Hair once again shrouded her face but it was obvious to tell what she was doing because anyone else in her position would have been doing the exact same.

Freddy was practically about ready to keel over. His head was tossed back and his hands were clutching at his sides as if they would burst. He was beyond elated at the way things were turning out. He quickly regained himself, his eyes glazed over as he peered down at his little nightmare companion.

She didn't breathe a word, merely staring at him in her own way. A rather smug expression took his face as he ruffled the top of her head roughly with his gloved hand, his razor fingers cutting off a few strands that floated downwards, "Ya did good, kid. Real good."

He drew back and sighed, almost in reflection, the satisfied look still firmly in place; "Did you hear their screaming? Delicious."

He had grown accustom to her never responding unless she felt she needed to, so he kept on talking, not really caring whether or not she was listening at all, "I wonder which one of 'em will make the mistake of falling asleep first. I'm betting on Lori though I wouldn't put it past Alice, she probably thinks after all this time she's in the clear. And then there is Katherine…"

His voice dropped at the mention of his daughter, the earlier conceit giving away to bitterness; "She may come after me head first. Think she can defeat me right off the bat. She'll think she has some sort of advantage because she's my brat but this time around…"

"Can you go through with it?"

Freddy's head snapped in Samara's direction as she unexpectantly spoke and not even in his head, but aloud. Her hair had fallen away and once more there was an eye to greet him but not the graying one she so often used to frighten her victims. Once again it was the bottomless black, the one that made her look almost alive.

He scowled, his upper lip curling, "Of course I can. I would have killed her last time if I had had the chance, my glove was just aching to-"

"I don't think you would have," she cut him off sharply, "I was in your head. I know what you were thinking then. You thought of getting her to join you. You were upset when they took her away when you were alive and even more upset when they took her away after you were dead. She disappointed you, betrayed you, but she's still _your_ child. Your _real_ child."

This was the most Samara had ever spoken and now Krueger knew why. 

Because the things she said were stupid. 

He wished vehemently now that she had not even opened her mouth. He jabbed a razor pointed finger at her almost scrapping the tip of her nose through the hair, "I don't give a shit about her. When the time comes, I'm going to poke her eyes out. She's no different than any of the other bitches I've dissected."

"If you say so."

"Anyone ever tell you, you've got a smart mouth," Freddy hissed and lashed out to smack her when his hand flew through nothing but air. He blinked and turned around. She had moved behind him again. 

It was beyond infuriating how she managed to move so quickly, as if by the speed of thought. A growl was curling up in his throat when she spoke again, "I'm sure my mother would have, if she had allowed me to grow up. But she didn't."

She walked up to him steadily, her whole body staggering slightly and her pale hand shot out, covering the top of his glove. He froze, confused, as she seemed to look into his eyes, a static sound, similar to a sigh, entering his head, "She could do it, you can too."

He got the strangest feeling she was talking down to him, condescending. He glared at her; "I don't need a fucking pep talk."

"You may when the time comes," she replied and her hand raised up once, as if patting his.

Another growl left him and he didn't know what he wanted more - to eviscerate his impending victims or Samara.

A thought occurred to him suddenly and he turned to her, thoughtful, "That's right, your mother dropped the axe on you, didn't she? Tossed your little ass down that well…"

There were no words, nothing but a wall of hair facing him as he went on, "Actually she tried to suffocate you, then hit the back of your head with that fuckin' big rock, then tossed you down a well but that didn't kill you, did it? Seven days you went before you-"

In a flash the hair tossed back and a jet of water shot out, splashing into his face. He gagged and drew back, he was soaked but it only took a quick thought for him to dry himself. Another perk of the dreamscape and having complete control over it.

He looked around his home. While the dreamscape was in essence a vast valley of emptiness, Krueger, having total control over it, was able to manifest anything he wanted. Little jump roping girls, Elm Street, goats, Westin Hills, the boiler room…whatever he wanted.

At this moment they were in 1428 Elm, sitting in the dilapidated living room. After making the video and sharing their little 'interlude', Samara had run off and Freddy had chased after her for a while. And while he would never, ever admit it aloud, it had actually been pretty fun.

If there was one thing he had always loved, it was the chase and chasing this little girl in particular had been a treat. She had even given off the scent of fear. Not her own, of course, but instead it was the fear of own kills, people who had feared _her_ and these fresh smells were invigorating to his senses.

It had made his blood lust unbearable and when he had caught her at last he couldn't help but lash out, claws meeting their mark with her belly. She had let out a shriek that sounded so real that he had almost exploded in his pants. The thrill of catching her, the smells, the sounds…it was too much for someone who had not had a good kill (or anything else for that matter) in so fucking long.

Water - dark and dirty - had gushed out of her as well as what appeared to be her intestines. But they weren't normal. They were dark blue, tinged gray, and when she looked up at him her hair had parted and the most delightful giggle left her. Her hands reached out, playing over the entrails and she quickly picked them up, packing them back inside.

Then she had _actually_ stuck her tongue out at him!

He had wanted to snip it off but he also couldn't help but be gleeful. God, who knew she could be so much fun? He watched her struggle with her insides, wondering what to do with her next when the screams had sounded.

Hearing it, knowing its source, caused an ancient excitement to rush through him. He had been so jubilant that he had returned her body to its original form, guts gone. Of course she had immediately wanted to know how he had done that and had begged him to teach her but instead he had produced 1428 Elm again and ushered her inside. They had taken a seat on the couch and had merely listened, drinking in the screams, the ensuing panic and horror rushing through their future prey. 

His day couldn't have gotten any better.

And now here she was ruining it.

He was about to lay into her for the 'face splash', when she asked, "Which one would you like to kill first?" 

The question took him off guard. He looked back down at her and could see her face had disappeared back behind her hair once more, repeating, "Which one of them would you like to kill first?"

He got the idea that this was, somehow, her way of apologizing to him for ejecting him out of his good mood. He begrudgingly accepted the peace offering, muttering, "Any one of 'em would be good."

"You must have one you want to kill more than the other." She pressed.

Freddy's head couldn't help but tip from side to side in thought, good mood returning as a wicked smile took place, "Alice would be nice. Looove to split her wide open. Twice I've dealt with her and I still have yet to knock her off. But then there is Lori. Fucking whore tore my goddamn head off. Like to return the favor…either way, I'm back in the saddle again."

Samara raised a hand up under her hair and it was obvious she was rubbing at her chin, the mock act of contemplation was rather amusing. Had she been a living child, it would have been classified as adorable. Being a dead one, it was mere ominous black humor, "This isn't going to work, you know."

He shot her a narrowed gaze, "What?"

"They're going to be expecting you back at full power. But you're not. I know that. It was stretch for you to come and get me. It has depleted you. A lot of this has."

Freddy didn't like her implications of weakness and was quickly growing angry again when she continued, "What we need are lambs. After you exact your revenge who will be left to kill? We need a catalyst. Someone to get the word out."

This actually gave him pause, anger receding as he caught on, "You mean another teen tugging at her hair screaming my name at the top of her lungs. Warning her friends, spreading the fear…"

"A new person to get your name out, fresh blood…"

"Fresh meat," Freddy corrected, then he looked at Samara for a moment and an idea entered his head. A horrible, wonderful, dreadful idea. He knelt down to her height and flicked a razor at her, "Even better…"

She frowned, "What are you…"

"Come on, I've got a plan," he rose to his feet and held out his hand, "You said you wanted to learn how I do what I do? Well, you're about to get your first lesson."

Samara looked up at him for a moment then obediently took his hand.

------------------------------

*Extra Note * - 'A horrible, wonderful, dreadful idea'…I just couldn't resist the Dr. Seuss nod, especially since one of my friends said Freddy's performance in F vs. J was similar to Jim Carrey's 'The Grinch'. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: Hello one and all!! Wanted to thank you all some more for your reviews - they are fuel to my fire!

------------------------------

Chapter 10

Her full name was Rebecca Sue Kotler but no one called her that. 

She'd always been just Becca. Simple, sweet Becca who'd been part of the Goth crowd, who'd made perverted jokes, and happened to be best friends with none other than cheerleader material, Katie Embry.

Everyone had always given them sideways glances, wondering why two people who were so different from each other could be so close. There were, of course, the normal retarded teenage rumors about their sexuality.

But the both of them had just laughed that off. They had met in detention for god's sake, Becca there for smoking on school property and Katie there for passing notes in class. In the boredom of after school punishment they had just happened to hit it off and since then had been closer than two people could be.

But then it had all ended abruptly and Becca became more than just a simple, sweet Goth - she became the last person to see Katie alive.

Not that she ever thought about that though. It had been wiped from her memory, which was a concept Rachel Keller had had a hard time understanding. Becca could vaguely recall Rachel visit. She had come when Becca had first been institutionalized. She'd been so nosey, asking all these question about Katie, about what happened. 

It had been terribly irritating, especially since Becca's now shattered mind didn't even remember anymore. Not a thing about it, whether Katie had taken her own life or been murdered by another's hand. All she knew was that she couldn't bear to be near a television set. Every time she saw one or walked near one she broke into a cold sweat and her heart sized in her chest, frozen mid beat. 

She had been subjected to numerous prescription pills. To tests. To doctors poking, prodding, looking for answers in her troubled mind. She'd been locked up, kept from freedom and it grew even worse when her parents gave up on her. 

They didn't know the story behind Katie and they didn't care to find out, all they knew was that their neighbors were whispering behind their backs about their 'crazy daughter'. And for all they knew, she was crazy, even before the situation with Katie she had always been in trouble, causing them some sort of grief.

It wasn't heartbreaking for them to decide to send her off to Ohio. There was a fine psychiatric institution there and they happened to deal first hand with symptoms Becca had been exhibiting since witnessing Katie's demise, one of which, included insomnia. 

And her grandparents lived down that way anyway, so it wasn't even like they would come off looking heartless. Instead it seemed as if they were doing what was best for the girl when they packed her up and carted her off to Westin Hills in Springwood.

At first it seemed that all hope was lost but once she was away from the city, Becca actually began showing improvement. Her parents had inadvertently helped her after all. With help from the staff and a lot of hard work on her part she began to relax, slowly returning to herself. There were still bouts of insomnia now and then and she still had some amnesia when it came to Katie's death but she doing so well they were even talking of possible release.

Which was exactly why she was in Doctor Carver Harris's office today. The sun outside was shining brightly through his venetian blinds and straight into her eyes, she blinked a few times but otherwise did not complain. Why would she? Ever since Katie had been taken she had fallen in love with the daytime - the sunlight; it some how kept her safe. 

That and being away from television sets.

She always felt that if she were exposed to one for too long she would die…someone would come for her. She couldn't quite remember who but she seemed to recall a girl. A little girl? 

She shook her head, she had been told not to force it; her memories would gradually come at their own pace. Just as they had when they'd revealed to her that Katie had died in the nighttime, just as it had when she told Rachel she had four days left…four days until something that girl would do.

Becca sat back in the plush office chair as Doctor Harris adjusted the blinds to keep the sun from her face. He took his own seat across from her, his young handsome face always a welcome sight, "How are you doing today, Becca?"

"Good, thank you for asking, Doctor."

"Anything new?"

"If you mean memories, no, it's still hazy…"

"That's perfectly natural, Becca, considering the emotional trauma you suffered. We can only take this all one-day at a time. However, from what I understand you've been doing exceptionally well in your physical and mental tests and have even managed to watch a little TV, isn't that right?"

The thought of the times she'd spent before the television caused her stomach to give a sickening lurch but she ignored it, not wanting to give anything away as she forced a happy smile, "Yes, I have."

"Hmm," Doctor Harris pulled out his clipboard, jotted a few notes, then turned to her, fingers pressed together in a pyramid. He rested his lips against his hands, looking her over than sat back, letting a small grin form, "Enough with the suspense, you and I both know why I called you to my office today, now it would be temporary, of course, we'd release you into your grandparent's care and if you showed competent enough after some length's time…"

"Oh, Doctor Harris!" Becca gasped, sitting up, "I would be thrilled, honored if you'd give me this chance…"

"It is a bit premature...to be considering this but you've shown such strides in your improvement, remarkable change really, much better than most of the people we receive here. But then, you were a transfer, I'm sure the doctors in your state are much better qualified to-"

" Doctor Harris," Becca pleaded, "I really appreciate all that you've done for me, and I understand the kind of situation you face by even considering this but I can assure you that I am ready, I can do this. I was…shaken by my friend's death but I think I have shown that I am on the mend and ready to return to a real life. Honestly, that's all I want, to finish school and to - to get on with my life. Isn't that what all this has been about? All my time here should lead up to this…shouldn't it?"

"Yes, but-"

"And I know you still have concerns about my amnesia but I think it would clear up better if I was out of here, away from these walls, the doctors, the smells, the pills…if I was just allowed to be normal and relax, I think it would come…"

Doctor Harris sighed, "I agree with that theory, Ms. Kotler. It's one of many reasons I'm considering signing your temporary release but there is still the issue of your phobia towards the television…"

Becca swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry but she forced herself to continue, " Doctor Harris, it's like you said, I have watched television since it happened. Being here has helped, just recently I sat with a few other patients through an entire program of 'Jeopardy'."

"Yes, I know," Doctor Harris assured her, "I saw, you jumped slightly during a commercial break…there had been some static."

The thought of static caused her hair to stand up on end, ripples shuddering through her skin but she continued. "Well…it's as you said, I still do need some work. But what you're suggesting is temporary so I don't see the harm in-"

"Becca," Doctor Harris laughed, "You don't have to convince me, after all, I'm the one who told you I was even considering this so obviously my mind is somewhat made up. Otherwise, why would I tell you? It's not a doctor's place to raise his patient's hopes and then crush them, it would sort of defeat the purpose of healing, right?"

Becca giggled as Doctor Harris continued, "No, what I'm thinking is more of a test, a final test. If you pass, then I will have no trouble signing those papers but if not, then I'm going to have to assume you are not ready just yet."

"Go ahead, I'm ready for anything." Becca replied confidently.

"Thus far, anytime you've watched television or been near one, you've had people around you. I think this has given you a sense of security and I want to see if you can survive without it. I want to know if you can act like any other rational young adult when left alone with a TV set. I want to lock you in a quiet room, Becca. Alone. With a TV."

Becca's eyes widened and for a moment static shot in front of her eyes and she thought she saw something…water, long dark hair, an eye? The images flashed so quickly that she blinked. She realized she was gripping the arm rest of her chair tightly and released it quickly, letting out a shaky laugh, "That would be no problem at all. I can pass that easy."

"Do you really think so?" Doctor Harris pressed.

Becca took a deep breath, composing herself, "Yes, yes I do. Let's do it."


	11. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: What better way to kick off the Halloween month than with this creepy installment! Hope you all enjoy and thanks again for the feedback!

More warnings…

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE (I'm serious about the gore in this one…ickiness abound!)

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

****

Chapter 11

Becca cautiously entered the quiet room she was ushered into. The room had nothing save its white padded walls, a small chair, and a TV set. The door shut behind her and locked with a sound of finality that caused a tingle of panic to shoot through her.

For a moment she wanted to throw herself back at the door, pound at it, scream for release but she forced that away. She calmly took a seat in the chair, across from the TV. She looked around, feeling completely uneasy and lost when she noticed in the far right hand corner of the ceiling, a very small dot. It was a camera; it had to be, a pinhole one.

Sudden relief washed over her. They were watching her, of course they were, they wanted to see if she would have a relapse, freak out, do something. She wasn't going to, especially if they were watching. 

If they were watching then she was safe. If there was the slightest hint of trouble, they'd come for her, save her, maybe they'd even see - begin to understand the truth of her unconscious fears.

Fears she couldn't even quite put her finger on but knew, deep inside, were legitimate despite what they said, despite what she even mouthed.

In some ways, she had been a lying puppet. She had repeated word for word all the bull they fed her, she did the song and dance and she was so close to her reward now that she refused to mess it up.

With a confident smile she clicked on the set. She was immediately greeted with some cheesy talk show. She watched this for a few moments, then flipped the channel to a soap. See? Nothing! She was fine! Perfectly fine.

The smile grew wider as she began watching, even with mild interest, as the Technicolor marvel before her preformed its only primary function. In the back of her mind she began to question herself, maybe she had just been crazy. 

Nothing strange was happening, this was just a TV for god's sake, not some evil portal of death. She got so lost in thoughts and TV watching that when a voice sounded somewhere above her she jumped, startled, "Excellent, Becca you did a fine job!"

Becca put a hand to her chest, she had forgotten about the camera. She giggled her head looking from side to side, " Doctor Harris?"

"Yes, sorry to give you that little scare, I'm speaking from the intercom hidden behind one of the padded walls. I just couldn't resist telling you how proud I am, I've been watching from a hidden camera and you have done an admirable job. I'm going to come down there and release you myself and we'll sign those papers."

Becca's heart felt as if it would explode with joy, tears filled her eyes, "Oh Doctor Harris, thank you, thank you!"

"Thank yourself, Becca, you did all the work," Harris's voice rang out, "I'll be right there, okay?"

"Okay," Becca said in a watery tone of bliss.

She sat back and broke into a mixture of sobs and laughter as happiness over took her. She had done it! She had made it! She was going to taste freedom again. This was the best day of her life, it couldn't get any better and nothing could ruin…

The TV clicked off.

Becca froze, the laughter dying in her throat. No. No, she had just imagined that. Or she had turned the TV off herself and didn't remember doing it. There was some logical explanation.

She edged forward in her chair and looked at the screen. It was off but she didn't remember turning it off. Maybe Doctor Harris controlled the TV? Yes, that had to be it, on his way down from wherever the cameras were, he had turned off the TV set, why would she need it anymore? She'd passed the test. Best to conserve electricity. Yes, yes, that had to be it…it couldn't be…

The TV clicked on.

Becca shot out of the chair, knocking it over. Her hands rose up into her hair, tugging at it as static snow greeted her, filling the room with its unnatural light. 

No, no, this was a dream, all a bad dream.

Hysteria began to grip her when a shining, glowing ring filled her vision, the TV screen coming to life, it jumped to a well. She screamed in terror and rushed to the set, finding the cord that connected it to the wall. 

She didn't care if Doctor Harris thought she had lost it, if he kept her locked up, at least she'd be alive. She tugged at the cord viciously, jerking it, pulling it from the wall.

It fought with great resistance but she could feel it giving. Yes, yes, she could do this! 

Tears were falling from her face as she gasped and heaved, hands raw from pulling. At last there was a horrible ripping sound and the cord burst from the wall. Free and unplugged. The TV, which had fallen over onto its side from the struggle, made a feeble buzz as it turned off.

She released a mad cackle as she fell back, landing smartly on her backside. She looked upwards at the camera Doctor Harris had been watching from. She wondered if he had seen that. No, he'd said he'd be on his way down and she imagined no one else had been in the camera room with him. He wasn't the type to conduct his tests with an audience, he gave his patients at least that much dignity.

She hefted out a heavy breath and scooted backwards, sitting near the door, away from the TV. It still lay on its side, the screen facing her but it was black now, turned off. Then something flew over the screen's surface. A ripple.

Becca's eyes widened, she still had the end of the plug in her hand. Her head began shaking vehemently from left to right. She had turned it off. It was off, there was no way it could turn back on. The TV gave a soft hum and slowly glowed to life, a well appearing.

Becca screamed and turned to the door, beginning to hitting it with all the force she had in her body. Her eyes were on the door, begging with it. She ventured a stare at the TV, watching in horror as a hand crept up out of the well.

Her screams grew louder and more piercing, turning into agonized shrieks, "PLEASE! GOD! SOMEONE! HELP ME!"

The hand pulled itself up and out of the well but it was not followed by long dark hair. A brown fedora hat followed it. Becca looked at it, her eyes blurry as she watched the man - was it a man? - emerge. It wasn't the little girl. It wasn't her and this should have comforted Becca but it did not for what greeted her was just as worse.

It was some…thing. With horribly burned red skin and devil eyes. And the glove on its right hand…its long sharp claws. She shuddered, pressing even more tightly into the door, gripping the cord of the TV tighter as it drew closer. Then it spoke, its voice smoky, "Hey there, Becca."

"What do you want!" she cried.

"It's not what I want, it's what she wants," he remarked and turned back to the well. He held out a hand and something reached up, grabbing it.

"Oh no," Becca gasped, "No, no, no…"

A tiny pale hand gripped his, and a head of dark hair followed. The little girl. Immediately Becca's mind's eyes exploded with memories, with visions. The tape. Water. The ring. Seven days. Katie's dead body, her face caught in a never-ending scream of pure terror. Becca began shaking her head again, "You can't…you can't! I didn't even watch your stupid tape! Please!"

"We've decided to do away with the technicalities," the man with the glove laughed as the little girl fully emerged from the well, standing next to him, "We have to stop being so picky. Besides, we _like_ you, Becca. We need you. And my little friend here, well, she has to tie up loose ends…"

"NO!" Becca screeched as the little girl began staggering towards her, her new friend following behind her. He moved more quickly, approaching the screen and he tapped his razor fingers against it, then, with a self-satisfied smirk, his hand shot out, reaching for Becca.

She screamed, edging farther away, deeper into the door but this didn't matter. His arm seemed to extend and grabbed her around the throat, choking her, dragging her near. Becca struggled, screaming even with the chokehold he had on her but it was useless. He drew her towards the TV, depositing her well in front of it as the little girl reached the screen herself.

She pushed forward and clawed out, bursting from the screen. Becca's cries were deafening as the girl was mere inches away from her, real and outside of the TV. The man spoke loudly over her screams, "Remember what I told you! Just ease in…"

The girl's long dark hair fell away and an eye of pure evil greeted Becca, as well as a tiny smile as the girl launched forward, transforming into water. Becca's mouth, still open wide with screams, caught the full blast.

She choked and gagged but couldn't help swallowing the dark liquid that poured into her. The little girl disappeared entirely, having fully become the gushing tide that forced its way down Becca's throat, filling her. The hand released Becca and she fell back, terrified, hands running over herself.

The man on the TV laughed, light eyes watching hungrily as Becca checked herself over, trembling. The jeer on his face was immeasurable as he watched, so close to the screen. Becca moaned, shaking herself from side to side, griping her stomach. Something was wrong…

Her insides felt as if they were on fire and Becca pitched forward, her body breaking out in a cold sweat and with a whimper she realized she was going to be sick. Her head tossed from side to side but she couldn't hold it in and soon the vomit burst forward.

She ducked her head behind the TV, wanting to hide as she began puking uncontrollably. Her eyes could see what was emerging from her was dark black, what was she…

Oh god, her eyes widened, blood! She was vomiting up blood, buckets of it and then she realized what was happening. Her hands rose up, trying to stop the liquid from bursting forth from her, trying to shove it back in. She was regurgitating herself! She was being torn up inside and ejected out from her own mouth! 

She pounded at the ground, frantic as her head began to grow lighter. She was dying! She was losing! She could feel herself slipping away from her mind. Something was shoving her out, taking over and with each passing second more and more of her was falling out of her mouth and on to the ground.

The pain was unbelievable but Becca kept fighting, trying to stop herself from throwing up but it was useless. One finally cry and tear left her and then she was gone, erupting from her mouth and to the floor.

'Becca' wiped at her mouth then sat back. Her long dark hair covered her face and her skin was deathly pale. The hair parted, falling to the side to show her face and more importantly her now all back eyes, a tiny pinpoint of gray in their center. She looked down at the TV and Freddy laughed, "You settled in your new home, kid?"

She nodded once then looked down at the disgusting puddle that had made up Rebecca Kotler. A sneer took her young face and with a wave of her hand it disappeared. 

------------------------------

The door behind her opened and Doctor Harris entered. The room was immaculate, TV back in place, no evidence that anyone had ever tried to remove the cord from the wall and 'Becca' herself sitting in the chair serenely. 

He grinned, "Ah, Becca, sorry I took so long. I got stopped in the hallways. I see you've been fine in here by yourself."

She merely nodded, not answering. Doctor Harris cleared his throat, "Yes, well, no one was up there watching behind that camera just now you see, you were in here all by yourself alone with the TV and nothing at all happened, you must be proud!"

"I am," 'Becca' said simply, her voice slightly rusty.

Doctor Harris' eyebrows drew together, "You sound-"

"I'm thirsty," she answered.

He laughed and shrugged, "Of course you are! How about we celebrate with a soda, hmm? We can sign the release papers while we're at it."

Something of a smile took her face as she replied, "That would be lovely."

Doctor Harris frowned. Becca didn't talk like that. He shook his head and shrugged again. Oh well, so what? She was probably still overwhelmed with having passed the test and facing freedom.

He put an arm around her shoulder and they left the room. The TV clicked on once they were gone and Freddy's laughter filled the tiny quiet room. Those stupid bastards. They had no idea what they had just released. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue

Author's Notes: Ahhh, I am basking in the glow of such praise and super cool reviews! So much to comment on…

Danielle L. Bartlett - I did indeed make up the regurgitating death, I was inspired by Freeberg's death in F vs. J, when the Freddypillar jumped down his throat it looked like all this black stuff was shooting up - not to mention I needed Becca's body. Also, on a personal note, keep an eye out Danielle! You're mentioned in the next chapter!

Airelle Vilka - Ah Becca's demise and how it came about…I have a theory and this is it, Becca saw Samara before she killed Katie - this is obvious as she basically had the crap scared out of her and that's how she ended up in the institution. Samara let her live because she hadn't actually seen the tape but seeing her alone surely affected Becca in some way…like how she knew Rachel only had four days left. 

Therefore, since she was in part affected by Samara, I believe Samara has the opportunity to change her mind and kill Becca whenever she wants…wouldn't surprise me a lick if this happened in the planned Ring sequel. 

Also, Samara's powers are greatly underestimated…she has a variety of abilities including high-end telekinesis, which we can see at the end of the Ring when she begins pulling up the screws on the floorboards with water and loosening the TV to hit Rachel and knock her into the well. 

Samara's powers effect the outside world whether the video has been played or not. This can also be substantiated in the scene where Aidan is in Katie's room and the blur moves across the TV screen - he had yet to see the video so how did that happen?

And, finally, long story short, I also take creative freedom in writing - I needed Becca's body, so boom, she had to die. As I had Freddy said, we've decided to do away with the technicalities.

Extra notes too…I also thought Becca looked a great deal like Samara, especially in the scene where she speaks with Rachel, so it made perfect sense to use her, not to mention in the beginning of the film I found her to be a rather pretty, talented young actress for her short scenes.

I wanted you all to be able to visualize what I am going for in later chapters, not to mention if I ever do progress any sort of r_elationships_ between characters, I needed someone a wee bit older…not that I'm against hitting a hard subject like pedophilia but I decided not to make people squirm through it, better this way - you'll see.

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 12

Will Rollins sat in his art class in something of a daze. Only yesterday, his ex-girlfriend Lori had spoken to him. She had not done so since the fateful day of their break-up. He wasn't sure what to expect when she had left the hushed message on his cell phone but of all the things he imagined, none of them were as bad as this.

Fred Krueger was back.

It was, ironically, like some horrible nightmare. To think of the demonic dream killer on the prowl again, heading out to gut more hapless teens with a vengeance. Just like he had done to Will's friend, Mark. Just as he helped do to Lori's friends Gibb and Kia. He had even, in many ways, contributed to the death of Will and Lori's tender romance. 

Or maybe Will did that himself.

Or maybe Lori had.

He hated thinking the latter, as part of him still loved Lori and he despised thinking less of her - but dammit, she had said things, horrible things, that she may have not meant but it did not matter - they did their job and hurt him deeply.

And she could be so self centered at times. She was not the only one who had suffered thanks to Freddy. True, Will had only lost Mark whereas Lori had lost her mother and her two best friends but amounts of loss can never be measured. For a long time, Mark was the only person Will had in the whole world.

His foster parents hadn't batted an eye when Dr. Campbell had had him locked up in Westin Hills. In fact, he was quite sure they had been relieved to be rid of him so he had been all alone. No concerned, caring parents, no Lori, none of his friends, no one until he'd met up with Mark. 

Mark had been there longer and taken the frightened Will under his wing. They had grown closer than brothers and then - bam! - that one person he had counted on and had done so much for him was gone. Dead.

Once all the terror had abated, Dr. Campbell had finally given the go ahead to freeing Will from Westin. It had been hard though, without any folks. His foster parents had given up any legal right to him and he had had to work hard to not come under the yolk of another foster failure.

Feeling perhaps guilty for locking the boy up and considering he was dating his daughter at the time, Campbell promised to look after Will and gave him a job underneath him. Will found he rather liked working for the general practitioner, learning about different medicines…it was funny really considering how much time he had spent _being_ medicated.

Still, the job was good and provided him a nice income. He was with Lori, he was making money, preparing to go to school…all was good. Then it fell apart. The fights got more vicious and biting and he just thought they needed time away from one another, needed to clear their heads.

So he broke up with Lori.

It wasn't like he had wanted to, quite the contrary, it broke his heart to do so but she refused to understand that. She thought he was only doing it for his own good, that he was maliciously dumping her. 

He tried to explain over and over he was not 'dumping' her. Dumping her suggested he was getting rid of her because he disliked her or because he planned to move on to someone else.

Breaking up with her was not something he wanted to do, but something he knew he _had_ to do for her sake as well as his own. She was his first love and she would always have a special place in his heart, but they were just not meant to be. She did not understand this, she never would and he hated that. Hated breaking her heart.

But what else was there to do? 

And then there had been her drug problem. He couldn't even bear to think about it at times, who could have imagined someone like Lori, someone so strong and sweet becoming an addict? But that was what she was. He had caught her so many times popping those blue pills. She'd lie and make excuses and the side effects…

She fell asleep at the wheel once. Almost crashed, almost killed herself! And every time they had had to be alone together she had grown groggy and sleepy, there was only so much he could take. He would stay by her side, he would watch over her and support her but he just could not date her.

She needed to see what she was doing to herself. Needed some tough love to understand she had a problem. But she refused to do so, or so it seemed so far. Instead she chose to hate him.

He knew some of it had to be an act - he even caught her staring at him in longing sometimes from across the Quad. But that didn't change her behavior towards him most of the time. But no matter how she reacted, he always made sure to check up on her, follow behind her. She didn't know and in someway it would even appear to be stalking but he just had to know she was all right, that she was safe.

He couldn't bear it if something happened and he didn't try to help her, didn't try to prevent it. The whole situation made him so exhausted - so angry and upset. It was best to move on.

So he reluctantly turned his thoughts back to Freddy, which oddly enough at this time, seemed the lesser of two evils in thought process. Lori probably would have rather dropped dead than ask Will for help these days but she was no fool - Freddy coming back was serious business and more important that any petty fights and break-ups.

She had shown him that video tape…with its appalling images. And that poor little girl! Could she have been real? He could still see the vibrant red on her cheeks, those dark, bottomless eyes. There had been something about her though…something so strange and unidentifiable but Will could not put his finger on it.

But the true questions he knew he needed to concern himself with was how Freddy came back and how to stop him this time before more people suffered. He didn't want another Mark on his conscious.

He pulled himself out of his brooding and turned to look at who he was sitting next to.

Paul Disher, or merely 'Disher' as he was called by all his friends, had been one of the first guys to date Lori after the break up. 

Will wasn't overtly fond of him but Disher was friendly enough, always offering a high five. He was currently using a X-Acto Knife on a guitar pick, a pile of all ready engraved picks were to one side as he looked up through his light brown curtain length hair, "Hey dude, what's up?"

"Not much."

"Not much, huh? You've been thinking like mad over there, all quiet and you say 'not much'…"

Will struggled to come up with a good response, then settled on local school gossip, "Did you hear we got a new guidance counselor…"

"We have a guidance counselor?"

"Yeah, she's supposed to be real good, I've only heard rumors but-"

"She, huh?" Disher asked, a lecherous grin taking his face, "She young?"

"Um, I don't know-"

"She a betty?"

"Disher…she's a member of the faculty," Will scoffed.

"Hasn't stopped me before," Disher replied, his eyebrows shooting up and down as his tongue waggled out. Will didn't even try to hold back his look of disgust, Disher merely laughed, "So, lady counselor, probably in need of some lovin'…have to stop by her office later, tell her I need some guidance."

Suddenly a voice spoke up, "And that ya do."

Both boys looked up to see Paige standing there, her art books pressed to her chest, Disher gave her a big grin, "Paige, love of my life, how are-"

"Don't even," Paige muttered with a roll of her eyes, "I jus' came over ta ask if ya happened ta get a copy of Mr. Abraham's notes from last class."

Disher raised up both hands, "Sorry, no such luck."

Paige gave Will a raised eyebrow, "You?"

Will shook his head, Paige clucked her tongue, "Well you two are gonna to do just great in this class."

"I can make it up to you, swear," Disher said, dropping the knife and holding up the guitar pick for her view, "See this?"

She frowned, "A badly scratched in smiley face?" 

"No! It's a skull! Look, you and my boy Will here," he patted Will roughly on the back, "Are invited to hear my band play for free, all you gotta do is present this," he handed her the pick, "I'll let 'em know that's your official pass in, backstage and all, you can bring the Luscious Lori too. I mean she and I may have not worked out but-"

"And when, pray tell, is this?" 

"It'll be this Friday around ten at 'The Foxglove'. I'll be there with my crew, Chris, Kevin…"

"And ya'll are known as?"

"The Horny Sock Puppets!" Disher said, right hand giving the universal symbol of rock, tongue hanging out again, giving a short headbang.

Paige was not impressed, "I may go, out of boredom, but I'm 'fraid Ms. Lori'll be passin'. She has a date that night with Tyler Flynn, you know, star quarterback, possible pick for the NFL, Tyler Flynn?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know 'em," Disher muttered, then elbowed Will, shooting Paige a glare; "How about you have some respect for us, her leftovers, eh?"

"I'll try," Paige sighed and walked off.

Disher muttered a swear word under his breath then turned to Will and began talking about his being invited to see the band play, passing him his own scratched up guitar pick but Will was too busy thinking about Lori.

She had a date? And with Tyler? He wanted to be happy for her but it was hard. She had been on several dates since the break up and he had been on nary a one. She seemed capable of moving on. Why wasn't he?

But then, he wasn't even sure he was ready to take a dive back into the dating pool. He was probably better off single. He was positive he had seen every girl attending Springwood U. this year and not one caught his interest, much less his eye.

Then she walked in.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue though I will say I do not own the following song, it is featured on the 'Underworld' Soundtrack and belongs to Maynard and Puscifer.

Author's Notes: I'm happy to see I'm getting so many reviews! This story now has the most reviews of any I've ever done. Can I *gasp * hit over a hundred! Oh joy! If that happens I'll have to tap dance all over the place - LOL! I'm also surprised so many of you didn't guess who the 'mystery' girl was…I'd of thought it was obvious.

I'd like to remark how ironic it is that Samara makes her entrance in Chapter 13, I love it!! Oh and FF.net has finally given a green light to an 'Underworld' movie section - check it out 'cause that movie rocks and so do the stories there (insert cheap plug here for Villainbabe's stories there…she rocks!)

And just so you all know, I forgot to mention last chapter that I do not own the Horny Sock Puppets…that is a band run by my friends, Chris, Kevin and Jon - shout out to 'em! 

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 13

__

Pray

Shall I go blind?

Pray

Cause nobody ever survives

Prayin' to stay in her arms

Just until I can die a little longer

Saviors and saints

Devils and humans alike

She'll eat you alive

-Puscifer, 'REV 20:20'

Will was transfixed the minute she seemed to float in. Her long, straight dark hair hung ominously around her pale face and her even darker eyes looked around the room a mere moment before long eyelashes cast the look downward.

Her lips stood out as the only colorful thing about her, a soft pink that seemed to have a tinge of violet beneath. Her clothes were swarthy and heavy looking, Goth's clothes and she moved about like a shadow.

Will was not the only one to notice and Disher leaned over, "Dude, who's that?"

"I don't know. I've never seen her." He whispered back, eyes still locked on her.

She moved to the back of the room and sat down her bag, sitting alone. She looked slightly out of place but otherwise was totally assured. In fact, in some ways, she cast off an almost flat persona, as if she was merely part of the background.

But Will could never imagine her being that way. Not with that face, not with those clothes, the way she moved…it was like she burst into the room after a gunshot resounded, fully capturing everyone's attention.

Or maybe not.

In fact, as Will looked around it seemed as if he and Disher were the only ones who had taken any notice of the strange new girl. Everyone else had their eyes on their canvas's and paint. Even Paige was busy, encased in gossip.

How could no one not notice this girl?

Mr. Abraham entered then, slapping his portfolio on his desk loudly. Everyone snapped to attention and Mr. Abraham gave an almost apologetic look for startling them as he withdrew the role and began calling out names, "Danielle?"

"Here!"

"Paige?"

"Present!"

"Disher?"  


"Yo!"

"Rollins?"

"Here," Will returned casually. The boys in class were always called by their last names and the girls by their first. Will had never understood why, but then Mr. Abraham was well known for his eccentricity. 

Mr. Abraham continued through the entire role then cleared his throat, "As you all may have noticed, we have a new student, sitting in the back is Ms. Rebecca Kotler."

Everyone turned and looked at the dark figure sitting in the back. The body that had once belong to Rebecca Kotler, but was now home to Samara Morgan, did not even raise its head.

Mr. Abraham cleared his throat; "It is my understanding, Rebecca, that you prefer being called 'Becca', so I shall do so. Now, Becca, Would you like to share anything with us?"

Samara did not speak and there was a long pause of awkward silence before Mr. Abraham gave a rather saccharine smile, "That's quite all right, we all know how hard it is adjusting to a new school."

He pressed on, "Today, class, I'm going to allow you to 'freestyle' your work. In other words, I want you to use whatever medium you wish and create any piece of art you wish. Sculpture, painting…as long as it's creative. You may start…now."

Everyone began working vigorously, some people going over to grab hunks of clay from the cupboards, other squeezing paint onto their pallets and dipping in wet brushes. Will merely continued to look over in Samara's direction. Disher nudged him again, "Dude, she's going to catch you staring, man."

Will looked away, slightly chagrined as Disher shot him a rather devious look, "So, that's the kind of chicks you dig now, man? I'll tell ya, I dated Lori, dude, and she was vanilla all the way. Never pictured you as digging Goth."

"I - I don't, I'm just…curious."

"Sure you are. Hey dude, it's cool. Those girls? They're freak-fucking-y, man. All into the evil underworld and all that. Wiccian, black magic, dark stuff, kinda cool if you dig it enough…most of it was babble to me but as long as they let me do my thing, it was all good."

"Maybe I should go say 'hi'…introduce myself…after all, she's at a new school. Probably lonely, doesn't know her way around…" Will mumbled more to himself than to Disher but he picked up every word.

"Yeah, bud, go make your move! Better yet, let me go with you and help you out, you don't seem like the kinda guy who can make smooth moves like the ol' Dish here. Hey, if you bomb, can I have 'er?"

Will didn't answer and instead merely rose to his feet. Considering several students were milling about the classroom, talking and working, there seemed nothing out of place as they made their transition over.

It appeared that either Samara did not notice their arrival or chose to ignore it. Her eyes focused intently on her canvas. Will cleared his throat to try and peel her attention away from whatever work she was visualizing, "Hi, I'm Will Rollins. This is-"

Disher interrupted and held out his hand, "Paul Disher, though you can just call me Disher, everyone does. So how you doin'?"

Samara did not take his hand, what's more, she did not even look in their direction. Her hair hung perfectly over her face, guarding it from view, only the tip of her nose was visible as she continued to stare at the canvas, completely transfixed. Will and Disher did not speak either, though Disher looked put out that she had not taken his hand.

Instead they turned their own gaze to her canvas. What they saw was shocking to say the least. It was odd how such a crude drawing seemed to be made up of such detailed lines. The dark black ink, that had been splattered all over, managed to draw out a picture.

All the color drained from Will's face in response to what he saw before him but Disher, oblivious, merely beamed, "Wow! That's fuckin' awesome! I didn't even see you take up a brush! How'd you-"

"It's a gift."

It was the first words she had spoken and they were so quiet that they were hardly audible. Disher's eyebrows were drawn together and it was obvious he had not heard it but Will picked up on it as his eyes directed themselves on to Samara fully.

She let out a breath; "It's a curse."

"If so then it's a great curse, babes, because this is some piece 'a work!" 

Will blinked, his brain numb from the sight before him. The drawing was of a man with a fedora hat, his face was cast in the shadows but his eyes stood out, a stark white. His sweater had stripes and he wore a glove on one hand, razors on each finger. 

Considering she had not responded to his first compliment, Disher continued, hoping to eventually strike gold, "It really is, I mean that dude is pretty funky lookin', totally. I mean the creativity, the use of the ink, the imagination-"

"I didn't imagine him," she whispered, "He's real."

Disher gave her a skeptical look, "Oh yeah?"

"Yes. I see him in my dreams," her eyes flicked to them briefly and for a moment, Will saw how deep they were, but in a flash the look was gone and she said in the most melancholy tone, "He's going to kill me."

Disher laughed, "Ah, I see, nightmares. Yeah, I used to get those when I was little. But come on! This guy isn't that scary! I mean, I've seen about a dozen horror movies so I've seen worse then him. In fact, those horror movies helped me to not be so scared, ya know? Desensitized and all. I mean, that's what this world is coming to, babe, it's harder and harder to shock and terrifying folks these days…"

She went on as if Disher had not even spoken, "He is coming for me."

"You don't say?" Disher chuckled, "He got a name? If I know it, then maybe I can stop him. You know, if he comes around lookin' for you."

Will spoke for the first time since this whole conversation had begun, "It's Freddy."

Disher turned to him, surprised, but Will didn't notice or care. This was far more important; he looked down at Becca and asked tentatively, "Becca…" 

"That's not my name," she muttered.

Disher was confused, "But the teach told us your name is Rebecca…that you like being called 'Becca'…"

"It's Sama - Sam," Samara said. It was obvious she was about to say something else but seemed to think better of it, stopping herself, "It's a nickname."

Disher pretended like he caught on, "Oh, yeah, that's cool, so, Sam, where'd you get the nickname?"

She shot him a glare, finally turning towards them, this was the first time they had caught full sight of her face and while her irritation was prevalent her features were somehow still so…blank, "I got it from my time in Westin Hills."

"Whoa…Westin Hills…yeah, heard of that place," Disher scratched the back of his head, now looking extremely uncomfortable, he took Will's arm and tugged him to one side, he gave Samara a weak smile, "I need to talk to my friend a sec, please excuse us…"

Will, who was still reeling from all that was happening, was easily led away as Disher shook him, eyes serious, "Dude, this girl may be a betty but she's total bad news."

"What?" Will muttered, slowly returning to earth.

"She's from Westin, man, you know, where they lock up all those crazies? Girl is probably a cutter or something, maybe went too far one night, hit her veins and - boom! - almost kicked it so she ended up in Westin. Or she's a druggie or worse, you don't want to get mixed up with a chick like that, man, they're only trouble and heartache. A mile of bad road, got me? Let's let the little psycho alone."

"Hey," Will hissed, "I don't care, all right? I'm not judgmental about shit like that!"

  
"But Westin - I mean, dude, have you even _heard_ of Westin?"

"Yeah, I happen to know it quite well," Will scowled and shoved Disher aside, about to return to Samara's side. However, she now had an audience. Paige and several other students had gathered around her, clamoring loudly. They stared in awe at her masterpiece, asking questions. 

"Where did you get the inspiration?"

"Did you do that with only ink?"

"Do you have a name for it?"

"Are you planning on entering that into an art contest?"

"Let me guess, transfer art student, right? Don't lie…"

Samara didn't seem to be interested in answering their questions; her dark eyes were staring down at the floor, hair protecting her like a shield from their fast paced words and questions. 

Eventually she spoke and while her words were soft spoken, they held a resonance that caused a few to inexplicably shiver, "I see him in my dreams. That's why I drew him. His name is Freddy Krueger and he's coming back, stronger than before…"

"Krueger? Where have I heard that name before?" One student muttered, scratching his chin.

"Wasn't that guy some child murderer or sumpin'?" Paige asked aloud to anyone who was listening.

"Yeah," another girl replied, nosily chewing her gum, "I think - like - he was from around here and - like - he - like - he died or something like that, you know?"

Disher jumped in now, "Heyyyyyyy, yeah, I heard about that. Old urban legend, you know about a child killer in our midst. A slasher who some old folks around her torched into one burnt old French fry…"

He wiggled his fingers in front of him, continuing in a silly, stories-told-around-the-campfire wail, "But then he came back, coming for kids in their dreams. Some crazy girl around here, long time ago in the early 80's said she saw him and he was killing her buddies or something…actually, there have been a lot of crazy girls in this town who have screamed that on the top of their lungs. 'Freddy's coming after me!'" 

He howled and raised his arms up in the air. He began running around in circles. Chasing a few giggling girls about. Samara's head rose and her hair parted, her eyes seemed to be on fire, "This isn't some joke!"

The sharp comment caught everyone's attention. Having all eyes on her, it would seem Samara would succumb to hiding behind her hair again but instead her hot eyes continued to burn their way under everyone's skin, "Freddy is real and he is back and he will kill you. All of you. One by one. You should be afraid…I would be, if I was you."

Everyone was frozen in place when the ending bell for the class rang. Mr. Abraham, who had fortuitously chosen to step out of the room at that moment to use the restroom, came back and did not notice the tension among his students. Instead he merely clapped his hands and scooted everyone off to their next class.

Several kids left huddled together, talking in hushed whispers, eyes darting about worriedly. Samara herself merely gathered her books together and charged off. Will was still trying to hurdle over people towards her when Disher grabbed him again, "See, dude? Total pill! Trust me, man, stay away!"

"You don't know anything about it," Will hissed, tugging from his grip once more and rushing after Samara.

He called out to her but she didn't seem to hear him or she chose not to. Panting, he finally managed to catch her once they were outside. When his hand tapped her shoulder he noted two things immediately, one, her skin was oddly damp, and two, it was freezing.

She turned and glared at him and he imagined if looks could kill…

But he merely shook his head and bent down, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, offering her a weak grin, "I - I'm sorry - I -ah - I didn't mean to startle you - I -ah - I just - I wanted to talk to you…it's about your dreams, about Freddy."

Her head cocked to one side and he took that to be her suggesting that she was interested and he could continue, "I just mean, I…I know about Freddy. I know what you're going through. Sort of. I've…dealt with him before. I'd like to help you."

She seemed to balk at the last statement and he rose to his full height, towering over her slight frame. His breath was calm now and he tried to sound somewhat soothing, "I know you don't know me and heck, I don't know you but…I was in Westin for a time myself, so I think I understand where you're coming from a little bit and if you'd give me a chance, I think we could help each other."

Samara's gaze was still vacant but for the first time in a long time, her thoughts were whirling. This boy wanted to…help her? Why would he care? And he had actually spent time in that sanitarium? When she had possessed Becca she had found it ironic that she should take up residence in a mental patient, considering how much time she herself had spent under psychiatric evaluation when she was alive thanks to her dear, sweet mother.

To think that maybe this boy too understood what it was like…

She shook her head, more to herself than to him. She could not derail herself from the objective at hand. This situation with the body was only temporary, long enough to spread the fear. Besides, playing the role of Rebecca Kotler was tiring. Perhaps this was why she had basically told this boy and his friend her real name.

Having dealt with Rebecca's grandparents and now the school schedule and other tasks that had been assigned her…it made her realize she was not missing out much on life and furthermore, why she despised the living so.

Will merely caught her shaking her head and became desperate, his hand shot out, touching her shoulder again, "Please, I'm not asking you to trust me, I'm just asking you to let me help you."

Her eyes went to his hand on her shoulder, he drew it away quickly running it through his hair, "Ah…sorry, shouldn't have done that."

Samara seemed to still be thinking when Will tossed in the clincher, "I'm not the only one who knows about Freddy, there's a friend of mine too, Lori, she knows quite a lot about him."

Lori! That was one of the names Freddy had mentioned earlier, one of the girls he figured he would enjoy killing first. Samara now found herself curious, she wanted to see this girl, wanted to know what made her tick, why Freddy wanted her dead so badly. And wasn't this the one that had decapitated him?

Samara's mind was buzzing now, this could actually be somewhat amusing. And who knew? Maybe Will could help her after all…help her by leading her to more of his friends, more people to scare, more victims.

She tried for a smile and only managed to lift one corner of her mouth, saying quietly, "All right."

Will let out a breath, "Great! When do you want to…I mean I'm free now but-"

Samara shook her head and held out a paper for his view. Another one of Rebecca's chores that had to be completed. Will took the note and read it, "Oh, you have to meet up with our new guidance counselor…what does it say here…ahh, yes, Ms. Angela Walsh. Okay, well then, when do you want to meet? Tomorrow after Art, maybe?"

Samara nodded and Will grinned, "All right, it's a date."

Her eyebrows drew together.

Will blushed, "Not a date-date, you know, not a real date but a - you know what I mean."

Flustered he turned and ran off, leaving Samara to contemplate what had just happened. A date? What exactly was that? And why did it make him nervous? She decided she really didn't give a shit and headed off to see Ms. Walsh.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: I HAD to feature Angela Walsh! She was played by Christie Clark, who also played Carrie Brady on Days of Our Lives and I am (much to my own dismay and embarrassment) a soap watcher - always loved Carrie!

Also, I am so close to 100 reviews I can just taste it…

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

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****

Chapter 14

Angela Walsh did not look like a guidance counselor. Truth be told, she looked much more like a student and, incidentally on her first day at Springwood U, was often mistaken for one. 

Her features were very youthful, with a soft, clear complexion, pinned up hair a sugar brown. Currently she wore a very smart brown suit jacket and matching short skirt. Beneath the jacket was a cream colored blouse and on her feet were short suede high-heeled boots.

She gave the appearance of a warm, kind person. Which was entirely the opposite of the girl who sat across from her in her office. Samara Morgan, or as everyone else knew her Rebecca Kotler, wore all black and was deathly pale. She was distant, cold, even borderline frightening to certain individuals.

But not Angela. Angela didn't notice anything strange or unusual about the girl before her save for the fact that she was terribly quiet and even that was not uncommon in the presence of a guidance counselor. Of authority. Angela sat up and cleared her throat, adjusting the notepad on her lap, "So, Becca, is there anything you want to say?"

'Becca' did not speak and Angela let out a laugh, tossing aside the notepad, "Fair enough, I don't feel like playing doctor anyway."

She leaned forward, "Look, Becca, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not going to force myself on you, pretend to be your buddy, condescend to you or any of that bull. I've had enough of that in my time."

Samara's head lifted a fraction of an inch and Angela took that as permission to continue, "My goal here isn't to try and dig out the deep, hidden root of your problems. That's something you have to do, all on your own. See, I believe _we_ are in charge of how we are, you know? If we want help, we'll get help but if not, fuck it."

She waited to see if Samara would react to her language, sometimes some people did, shocked. They thought by her dress and looks that she would be more reserved. They were wrong, and a lot of the time the looks on their face when she shattered their first impression of her was really funny.

But Samara gave no such reaction and Angela went on undaunted, "Unless a person is willing to do something, it's pointless. You can cry and preach and yell at someone all you want but that doesn't mean you're going to fully sway or convince them unless they want that. You're right because you say you're right and you're not wrong until you say you are, savvy?"

Once again, no response, she sighed, "Not that I know it all. I'm just me. I try to be as real as possible but - hell- what is real, right? You know what I say? Have fun. Life's too short. That in mind, let's do something fun."

Angela shot up from her seat and Samara watched her go. While she had no outside reaction, inwardly she had to admit she was somewhat amused. Angela's techniques were nothing like the brooding, smoking, clinical doctors at the hospital her Mother had subjected her too. God, how she had hated those men. Wanted them to suffer. She wanted Angela to suffer too.

But she also wanted to see what she was up to. Since possessing Becca's body, Samara had been a host to many new experiences and sensations, one of which was an idling curiosity that she never remembered really having in pure spirit form nor in her former life. It was not unentirely pleasant. But she did miss killing. Her and Freddy would have to speed up their plan. After all, how long did the video watchers have left anyway?

Samara shook her head, since taking hold of the body, her mind had been somewhat foggy. Being a spirit allowed omnipotence. Being in a body made one limited. 

Angela returned grunting slightly, what she had with her made Samara's nostrils flare, her fingers clench into the arms of her seat, eyes fading into black.

It was a television.

So, the lady doctor thought to cure her problems the same way her father had, hmm? Lock her up with a television, its flashing images and soft glow there to wash away all her troubles, eat away her brain. Radiation seeping into her skin. Here was the face of her best friend and most hated enemy.

The fucking idiot box.

Even in the body, Samara could feel her powers well up inside her like a great storm. Water began to leak out of a few near by electrical sockets, trickling slowly but growing in power. She would kill this woman. She would suffer by her bear hands in this new body.

Angela, oblivious to Samara's emotional change, sat down the TV with a huff , back to the girl as she drew out another funny plastic box, hooking it up to the set. She flicked a few knobs, unaware that Samara had risen from her seat behind her. One of her hands reached out, fingers clawed, face slowly becoming covered with large, thick veins that stuck out - skin so pale, top lip pulled back in a sneer and eyes slanted angrily...

Samara was about to sink those fingers into Angela's shoulder when the woman turned, grin in place, "How about we play a game?"

In a flash, Samara's vein covered face was normal, water disappeared and all was back to normal. It happened so quickly, Angela didn't even notice a change, save for that Samara was standing now, almost hovering over her. Samara was confused.

A game? She didn't want her to watch television?

What kind of game was there on a television anyway?

Once again the curiosity returned and Samara took her seat. Better she control her temper anyway, she mused, save victims for herself and Freddy. But still, she was slightly out of place. She had never stopped in the process of destroying someone. What was going on? What was this body doing to her?

Angela handed her a funny looking hunk of plastic, holding one of her own and remarked, "I just got this Playsation 2, I'm better with Nintendo 64 so I'm not any good with these controls. You'll probably beat the snot outta me."

Samara could not even wrap her mind around what the woman had just said but watched avidly as the screen came to life and showed a cartoon. But not a cartoon, it was different…more clunky and - and digital. Sort of how she appeared when she came out of a television and came upon her victims. 

It was very dark too…gritty, grimy. A melodic, heavy tune played and the title came up, reading 'Twisted Metal: Black'. Angela spoke again, "I always loved this song, 'Paint it Black', I think I prefer the Stones's version but either one is catchy."

Samara was once again unable to answer. The game began and slowly but surely Samara figured it out. She had a worldly knowledge that surpassed human beings but things like this did not dwell within the basic, ancient things she knew of the world. Why would it? This was stark and dumb and silly. 

What did it have to do with the world? Still, Samara fumbled with the controller and towards the end actually started doing pretty good with driving the fake vehicle on screen when a bell sounded. Angela put the game on pause, "That's the end of our session. You must be relieved to get out of here, huh?"

For once Samara actually did give something of an answer, shrugging. She honestly didn't care either way. She could have gone on playing the game or she could leave. Either way it did not matter. Though if she had a choice as to what she could be doing right now, it would probably be to kill someone…or do some more exploring in this body.

Shit, she was getting lost again. Rising to her feet, face as blank as usual, Angela walked her to the door, "I'll see you again tomorrow. We can try talking again or play more of the video game…or hell, maybe we'll go on a drive, it's been real nice out lately."

Samara slowly drifted out as two new faces approached, they both looked very tired but otherwise worse for wear, "Ms. Walsh?"

"Please, call me Angela, Ms. Walsh is still too weird."

"Ms. Walsh is too weird?"

Angela nodded, "I only graduated college myself a few years ago, I don't quite feel like an adult yet, so hearing Ms. Walsh is sort of strange."

"I understand, my name is Maggie Burroughs and this is my associated Doc-"

Her eyes widened, "Maggie Burroughs? I've heard of you. Didn't you write a piece in the New Yorker on Childhood Psychological Trauma?"

Maggie flushed, "Yes, that was mine."

"I used that in my final essay when I was in college, got one of the highest scores in the class, so I supposed I owe you," Angela said with a laugh, then looked at Doc, "And you - I've seen your picture before…the dream expert, right? Wrote a lot of radical stuff about dream demons and theories…very intriguing stuff."

Doc chuckled, "You really seem to have quite a handle on who we are, Ms. Wal - Angela."

She grinned, crossing her arms, "I had to and more importantly, I should. I studied really hard to get my bachelors and this position. I wanted to know all I can to help these kids. I don't think I'm doing that swell of a job but most people say I've been getting good results."

"True," Maggie returned softly, "I spoke with the Dean here, your record is unprecedented for one so young. He said that your technique is that you bond with the kids…"

Angela shrugged, "Sort of. I'm not that much older than them so I understand them a wee bit better. I try and that's about all there is to it. Trying."

Maggie was about to ask something when Angela's phone rang, she held up one finger, looking apologetic, "Gimme one sec. I gotta take this."

Angela picked up her phone while Maggie turned to Doc, he looked at her with concern, "You're exhausted."

"Can't be helped," Maggie sighed, rubbing her forehead, "I hope we can handle all of this soon - get it out of the way."

"We can't rush into this blindly, Maggie," Doc cautioned, "We need to find out what's going on, come up with a plan before we go barging into danger. Especially if we want any chance of possibly helping that girl."

Maggie nodded and looked at Angela, listening into her conversation as she spoke into the phone, "What? Yes, yes I did get your notes on Rebecca, Dr. Harris. Yes, she showed up for her first session. What do I think? I think she's great! Quiet but….no, no I don't think you'll have to put her back into Westin. No, I think she'll be fine. Look…just give her some time, okay? She didn't get out that long ago and the adjustments…yes, I understand. Yes, I know. Look, I've got to go, I have company…yes, I'll fax you my notes. Thank you."

Angela hung up the phone and ran a hand over her face; Maggie walked over, "Problems?"

"I just," Angela sighed, "I don't like the idea of locking kids up."

"Sometimes it's better for them, for their safety," Maggie whispered.

"Rarely," Angela stressed, a line ticking in her jaw, "Most of the time it's just people not working hard enough, to understand. Taking away someone's freedom, locking them up - taking away emotions and caring…how does that help them? It doesn't…it just makes them desensitized and then…"

Angela sighed and shook her head, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "Look, I'm sorry. You came here for a reason, how can I help you? You're not here to…take my job are you?"

They all shared a good laugh and Doc shook his head, "No, No, Maggie and I actually are currently employed in Paris, live there as well and we are writing another piece-"

"That's right," Maggie jumped in.

"An essay."

"Together." 

"In the New Yorker." This they said simultaneously when before the words had merely been switching off between them.

Angela's eyes flicked from one to the other, "Married?"

"No!" Maggie gasped and Doc actually blushed, she waved a hand, "No, just friends but - you know, two colleagues working together…"

"I see," she said, "Well, what's it about?"

Maggie cleared her throat; "We want to do an essay…more of a survey really on teenager's dreams and to do that we need to find out where the local teenagers hang out. The high school was really no help, they were completely oblivious as to what their students do and they were the ones who suggested that maybe you-"

"Actually," Angela said and turned to her desk, picking up a guitar pick, "A student stopped by earlier, Paul Disher. He invited me to see his band play at the local club. Real popular with the college kids, imagine high schoolers can get in too - Springwood is always hungry for cash."

"You know about the area?"

"Yeah," Angela said softly, eyes downcast, "I know a bit about it."

She shook her head, "If you and Doc would like to join me, I was thinking of going, check out the nightlife myself…"

"Sounds perfect." Maggie said and worked out the details with Angela. Once that was done the duo headed out, talking to one another candidly.

"She seemed to be holding something back, some sort of secret." Maggie muttered.

"Hmm, too bad, she seems nice enough…and she is helping us, a lot more than most of the people in this town," Doc sighed, "Want to go to the police station and hospital now to check about any possible accidents that could have involved the girl we saw?"

"Yeah, in a bit," Maggie whispered, looking around, "I'm just getting my bearings."

Doc looked around too, "It hard being back?"

Maggie smirked dryly, "It's a nightmare."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue. Also I don't own Twisted Metal: Black…that belongs to ever the heck made it…

Author's Notes: For all those who hungered for it – I give you…FREDDY!! YAY!

For those who do not know, Angela Walsh is Jesse Walsh's little sister from NOES 2: Freddy's Revenge. Freddy attempted to possess Jesse but failed, though at the end of the film it appears that while he may not have succeeded in possessing Jesse he may have taken him out in an other fashion…mwhahaha!

Pmad – You bet they're all gonna meet at the gig – and what fun it'll be!! LOL

CarryTheZero – Ah yes…PS2 is fun! I agree that Silent Hill is a better choice but you'll see later why I chose Twisted Metal…I make such stupid jokes about it in the next chapter…me trying to be funny is usually a bad idea…

Most Important!!: There are two scenes in here which are a wink and nod to Nephthys Jeckel and her stories. One of those scenes involve the story 'Trail and Error' in particular. I happened to really like a part in that story so I cut and tailored it a bit for my own design - so no one'd better say I'm stealing, 'cause I've admitted to it - LOL. No, seriously, I'd just like to say this idea was hers not mine and I hope she does not mind terribly if I use it as well.

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: BLOOD PLAY/A WEE BIT OF SENSUALITY (yes, you read that right…)

------------------------------

Chapter 15

Samara trudged up the front steps to her current home. Becca's grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Kotler, were nice enough, even if they did treat her as delicately as fine china. The moment she entered the house, her 'Grammy' jumped, startled. She turned and saw Samara in the doorway.

She rested a wrinkled hand to her heart, "Oh, it's just you, Becca, dear. You gave me quite a fright."

__

That was nothing, Samara's thoughts hissed, _you should see what I can really do._

But her face was as placid as ever, neither apologizing nor criticizing as she shut the front door behind her. Grammy beamed, "Would you like a piece of apple pie, dear? I just pulled it out of the oven."

Samara shook her head from side to side and headed towards the stairs when she bumped into her 'Grampy', who was also started, "My! You really sneak up on an old man, don'tcha, Button?"

She looked at him a moment, then shrugged one shoulder, moving past him effortlessly. Once again Grammy spoke, "You sure you don't want something to eat?"

Samara sighed, knowing she would have to speak or they would not be satisfied, "No eat, just sleep."

Grampy laughed, "Of course, she's exhausted! First day at a new school, it'd wear out any kid! You just go on up, Button, and get some good ol' fashioned shuteye. Your Grammy and me'll be down here if ya need anything."

"Sweet dreams, dear," Grammy called as Samara began to charge up the stairs, eager to get away. She reached the guestroom and flung herself inside, shutting her door behind her and locking it with one hand. 

The room she had taken residence in was livable - even if it was tacky. There were loads of beanie babies and fake flower bouquets as well as a collection of different kinds of piggy banks. The wallpaper had little pink and purple paisley designs and the bed was a white canopy. 

This room would be a dream for any little girl. For Samara it was nothing more than everything else in the world was - meaningless. And slightly irritating. She thought of the old people downstairs. She longed to crawl through their television set, end their existence, make them suffer. At least it would be something to do. 

Being in this body, acting human was more of a task than she had realized. There was so much that went with it. She threw herself down upon the bed and slowly felt her eyes flutter shut. 

Grammy had told her to have sweet dreams. Samara actually felt her lips rise into something of a smile. 

If only she knew.

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"Wondered when you'd be back," Freddy jeered happily, arm folded as he leaned against a twisted looking black tree. They were once again on the dreamscape and it was currently a vast, twisted wasteland. 

The sky above was a dark, stormy indigo, causing everything else around it to reflect the same color. This included the ground beneath their feet, which was cracked and broken like it had just suffered earthquake fissures. 

A spiky, thorn covered tumbleweed blew by and Samara stood before him but not as her little girl form. Instead she still looked like Becca, right down to the Goth clothes, her face uncharacteristically uncovered. She also spoke, "Why are you so happy?"

"Do you know how many Springwood kid's dreams I invaded today?" He asked, showing his rotted teeth, "How many of those scared fucks let me in?"

She shook her head.

"Twenty seven!" He chuckled darkly, "Twenty-fucking-seven! You managed to rile up that many, this quickly…"

Her slim shoulders lifted, "It was a long day."

"Obviously," he muttered, but it was clear he was beyond pleased with her work, he drew near to her, claws reaching out, "You know, you look good in that body. Real good…just like one of my children. It…working for you?"

"It's tolerable." She replied, watching as he circled her, the look of hunger in his eyes more than evident.

"It's pretty tasty," he returned, licking his lips, claws running through her hair, skimming her shoulder, "I wonder…"

The tip of one blade slashed along her skin and drew a fresh patch of blood, her gaze turned to him, eyes blazing as scarlet blood welled up on her pale flesh. In a flash she moved from his grip, a few feet away. Her voice exploded deep inside his mind behind a strong, angry wave of static, "Not without my permission!"

Freddy grabbed his head and let out a grunt at the loud telepathy. Once she was gone he turned furious light eyes her way, tone deadly, "Don't do that again!"

Her own face was livid, "I'll do what I want, when I want. Don't do that without my permission."

He held up his hands, "Fair enough…for now…"

She shook her head, hair falling to shield her face a little, "What did you mean one of your children, I thought I was all ready…"

He chuckled, "You misunderstood me, I meant in that body you look like one of the many brats I slaughter. Deep inside that shell, you're still my very own child. All my own."

She did not respond to this and instead turned her view to her wounded shoulder. She ran curious fingers over the fresh blood, rubbing the sticky substance between her fingers. It was odd to bleed. If this was pain it was very strange and new…there was an odd tingling sensation. 

Before, whenever she had been 'hurt' in the dreamscape, she had felt nothing. She was dead after all. She had total control over her being - in truth, she felt nothing in that form. Ever. Save for perhaps anger and grim satisfaction after a kill. 

Freddy walked over to her again, holding his tainted blades for view. She could see the flash of red on them - her own blood and watched with some fascination as he drew the blades near his mouth and ran his tongue along one, tasting her. His burned face almost glowed, "Sweet."

Samara didn't know how to respond but she did feel a new tingling sensation inside her. One that was remarkably different from the one caused by his attack. Freddy's ungloved hand reached for her, brushing along the side of her hair, near her ear, "What's this?"

He drew back and a copy of her artwork appeared, "Look what I found behind your ear!"

They both looked at the ink creation and Freddy rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "A good likeness I'd say…except you should have emphasized more on my manly physique."

A raised eyebrow was her form of a response and he merely gave her another twisted smile, "This inspired them to have nightmares, hmm?"

"And the lies I told them. The living are very susceptible to suggestion, you just have to say the right thing…"

"Stupid fucks," he chuckled, "I wish you'd been there to see me at work. I was in this one kid's dream, Fisher or Disher or something and this kid…he's having some wet dream and I go in there and…"

He sighed, shaking his head, "You'd have to have been there. It was exquisite."

"I can see," she whispered and touched his face as she had done by the well. Once again images filled her mind's eye, overcoming her. Many people she had met today - all students - flashed before her. Different scare tactics, different screams, different reactions, most running, some stupid enough to try and fight back.

One by one they came up for her to view. She recognized quite a few - even able to name them. There was, of course, Disher and then there was Pamela, Brandon, Frank, Ben, Adriana, the list went on and on. A few times she couldn't help but giggle.

Once it was over she drew back and gave him a small nod of appreciation for his own unique art. His all ready inflated ego grew a smidgen more as he said in that smoky tone, "It's a good system, you bring 'em to me, I conjure up the fear, setting up for the killings…"

"Quid pro quo," she said smoothly.

Freddy growled, "All right, you do for me, I do for you. You want another lesson on how I do my thing?"

"Yes."

"Learn from the master," he said smugly and flicked two of his claws as if he were snapping his fingers. Out of thin air three little children appeared. The first had no eyes, the second had no ears and the third had his mouth sewn shut.

Samara didn't even bother to say aloud 'see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil'. The children's meaning was a given. Another flick and the children disappeared, replaced with a gigantic, slimy leech that pulsated on the ground obscenely. Flick again and the leech was gone, replaced with a pig-tailed teenage zombie girl in a bikini.

She began jumping up and down, waving her arms, obviously hyper as she let out flirtatious, playful coos and threw her arms around Freddy's neck. She began giving his skin sloppy kisses and Freddy let out a laugh.

Samara's eyebrow rose again and Freddy merely laughed louder. Another flick and she was gone. Freddy turned all attention back to his pupil; "It's easiest to start off with using a hand movement to get the juices flowing. Think it up, concentrate, snap your fingers, done. Got it?"

A swift nod and she raised one hand with determination, fingers poised to snap, ready to try. Her first snap received nothing more than sparks. He scowled, displeased, "Try harder."

Another snap. Nothing.

"Do it right!"

One more snap. Once again nothing.

"Goddammit!" he shouted impatiently, "It's not that fucking hard! Even an idiot-"

A loud snap echoed and Freddy flew back as if punched in the gut. He let out a choked noise and raised his head, glaring at her. A tiny glimmer of satisfaction greeted him, "You can't just think it. You have to want it."

He nodded stiffly and rose upright, stalking towards her. She snapped her fingers again and the location changed. They were now in the boiler room but this time there was a television set present a few feet from the furnace, a device hooked up to it.

"Know you can, don't just think you can," she said smartly.

Freddy was still incensed at her attack but as he looked around he couldn't help but feel his bruised ego being restored beyond full health. She learned quickly. He was, after all, an excellent teacher. This pompous realization soothed his temper somewhat, as well as his curiosity as he looked at the screen. 

He pointed a razor in its direction, "What is…"

"Played it in 'therapy' today," Samara said as she took a seat on the filthy ground before the TV and grabbed a controller, "It's called Twisted Metal: Black."

"Always did like video games," he murmured, finding the other controller and taking a seat next to her. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: 100!! YEA BABY, YEA!!! Okay, like I'm overly happy but I've never had a story hit over a hundred reviews so I can't help but be thrilled. I'd like to thank God and the Academy…just kidding. Seriously though, thanks a lot guys, without your reviews I would be very sad and uninspired.

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

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Chapter 16

"I don't want to meet her!" Lori whined.

"Come on, Lori, she's really nice," Will assured her.

"Yeah and she's a great artist," Paige murmured reassuringly, patting her friend's shoulder comfortingly, "You shoulda seen her ink splatter in th' art room. Gave me the heebie-jeebies! Real good, 'sides she's new. She needs ta make some friends."

"Well she's not making friends with me," Lori snorted and charged off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. 

Paige sighed and shot Will something of an apologetic look, shrugging, "I tried."

"I know, thank you," he returned quietly, suddenly tired as he let his head fall back in the wheeled computer chair he was currently sitting in. 

He had shown up at Lori's dorm, informing her that he had invited Samara over after Art class that day so they could 'meet'. The real reason was naturally Freddy but he couldn't say that in front of Paige so he'd made up some lame excuse.

Paige, who wanted to end the Will-Lori romantic reunion more than anyone, was eager to pump Samara up - thinking Will was interested in her. Which was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

Will shook his head, of course it was, he was just fascinated with her because she was so different. So strange. And she was a damsel in distress, being chased by the newly resurrected Dream Demon. And those eyes…Christ, he couldn't forget those eyes. There was still something about them…

Paige took a seat on her bed and looked at Will in silence for a few moments. It was obvious she was struggling internally with herself over something and eventually caved in, edging forward in his direction, "Can I ask you something?"

His head rose and he sat up straight, "Sure. What?"

"Now I love, Lor, I really do but I jus' gotta know for sure," Paige took a deep breath, "Didja just dump her or was there a reason behind it. An' I mean a good reason, not jus' cause you thought you two'd do well with some time apart."

Will shifted in his seat, "Paige, that's sort of personal."

"Was it over th' pills?"

Will's eyes shot to hers and she immediately knew her answer. Her head lowered, "I thought so. She's been takin' 'em since she got here. Never told me why…said once they help her sleep but," she shook her head sadly, "Momma always said no pill is a good pill. The only reason for takin' 'em is if you're sick with either fever or…you know, _sickness_." 

The way she stressed the last word suggested its hidden meeting and Will shot his baby blues in her direction, "I am sympathetic for what she's going through, I am. I know her better than anyone and I know why she's doing what she's doing but…I just want her to stop. To get better. I thought the shock of me breaking up with her might give her an epiphany of sorts. Motivate her to see what she's doing to herself."

"If it had, would ya have gotten back together wit' her?"

"Yes, of course," Will whispered, "I loved her."

"Ya said that past tense."

"It's…been a long time since we've broken up," he returned, "I still do love her but not the way I did before."

She nodded, "I getcha. Well, your plan didn't work, she's still on the drugs…"

"I know, which is why I'm still by her side. I won't date her but I won't leave her either. I still check up on her now and then, that's why I eye her across the Quad."

"You're not stalking her, are ya?"

"No, just checking up." 

Paige nodded then felt a weak smile form, "Ya know, I was all set ta hate ya, Will. Friendship works that way, Lori's mad at ya so I have ta hate ya 'cause you're the ex. But you're not that bad after all."

"Thanks…I think." 

Paige chuckled, "This is all for the better anyway. Lori seems to be hitting it off with Tyler; maybe he can help kick her of the habit. And you, you have your eye on the newbie…"

Her hand reached out and grabbed Will's chair, wheeling it closer to her as her eyebrow rose, "So…what _is_ going on between you and Ms. Kotler exactly?"

"Um," Will flushed when suddenly there was a timid knock at the door. Paige released his chair and bolted upright, opening the door. Samara stood there in an outfit very similar to the one she wore yesterday. All dark clothes. All swarthy.

"Howdy there, pardner," Paige drawled and ushered the girl in, "How ya be?"

Samara did not answer, face almost hidden behind her hair. One eye in particular was visible and landed on Will. He felt himself shiver in his seat as he jumped up and held out a hand for her to shake, "How's it going?"

There was no answer, nor a shake as Lori suddenly emerged from the bathroom. The blonde looked slightly put out but tried to muster up a smile, "Hello, I'm Lori Campbell."

Samara looked at her in silence, contemplating her. So _this_ was one of the girls who had defeated Freddy? Part of her wanted to actually laugh aloud. This busty blonde? This young nothing was a force to be reckoned with? This…this curly haired thing, had decapitated the egotistical Nightmare Man?

No wonder he needed her help. 

Another laugh almost rolled out of her but died as she said nothing, eyes on Lori who seemed even more agitated. She rested her hands on her arms, shifting from one foot to the other, "So, Becca, Paige tells me you're a really good artist."

"The best in th' class," Paige remarked brightly, "An' she just started yesterday."

"You bring any art with you?" Lori asked kindly enough.

Samara drew out her sketchpad and handed it to Lori. She opened it and flipped through a few pages, immediately growing pale. Will looked over her shoulder and saw the various scratches - all of which resembled Freddy and his twisted nightmare illusions. Paige bounded over too and took a look.

Oblivious she laughed, "Wow, you really got a thing for this guy, huh?"

"He's in my dreams," Samara whispered, "All of them."

"Well I wouldn't call this one a dream boat, more a date from hell, ya know? Total nightmares, he's one creepy lookin' guy," Paige returned, "Becca…"

"Sam," Samara corrected.

Paige shot Will a confused look and he ducked his head, "Nickname."

She nodded and continued, "Sam, that's cool, Sammy, you going to Disher's shindig?"

Samara did not reply and Paige took this for confusion, "I mean, everyone was invited. Will and I were given special passes but just about anyone can go and the whole campus is buzzing about it. You should come. The Foxglove is an awesome club and they'll be a lot of new people ta meet there. Ya'd have lottas fun."

Fun? Samara thought about this then realized the club would probably be filled with students, new minds she could inject with fear. Freddy was all ready starting to grow stronger, soon he'd be able to make his first kill. 

She nodded and Paige beamed, "Great! OH! I gotta an idea, I gotta an idea!"

She took a firm hold of Samara's wrist, "Come with me, I got a great idea for you - it's make over time!"

With that said she dragged a confused and unwilling Samara off while Lori turned to Will and tossed the sketchpad at him, "What the fuck is this!"

"Don't you see?" Will said, picking up the pad, "It's happening again, another girl is having nightmares. Freddy is after her and soon he'll be after others. He's back, Lori, and we have to stop him."

Lori shook her head, "No, no…"

"Lori, please," Will begged, "You defeated him once, you can do it again. I know you've been through a lot, so have I but-"

"NO!" Lori screeched, "I WILL NOT FACE HIM EVER AGAIN! I CAN'T!"

"Lori," Will said softly, calmly, "Please keep your voice down…"

"He can't get me," Lori said, shaking her head, "I'm protected, all right? Hypnocil keeps _my_ dreams away. I'm safe."

"Yeah? And what about other people, huh, Lori? Did you ever think of that?" Will asked, his temper rising.

"I have," Lori whispered, "I want you and Paige to start taking the pills too."

"WHAT?!"  


"Yeah, I've all ready talked to dad about it and he's agreed to get me more supplies…"

"No."

"Will…"

"No, Lori, No!" Will shouted, outraged, "I won't do that! I all ready spent years of my life hooked up to that junk against my will, I won't let it happen again! Besides, we have to take a stand. We have to stop him. For good this time! For the sake of all the kids on campus! We can't just save ourselves, there are other people…"

"Who I don't even know!" Lori gasped, "Now be reasonable, Will, I mean, I don't want anyone else getting hurt either but what you're talking about is suicide! We don't even have Jason to help us defeat him this time! I was only able to decapitate him because that Goliath weakened him! This time he'd be at full strength, unstoppable…"

"We'll find a way!" Will reassured her, "Lori, please…"

"NO! I want him dead but goddammit he's all ready taken away everything from me, there's nothing left now but my life and I will not let him have that!" Lori hissed when suddenly her cell phone began glowing and buzzing on her desk.

Will looked at her hopelessly and she sighed, frustrated as she picked up the phone, ending its irritating actions, "Hello?"

He listened in as she spoke, "Oh…hey, Tyler," she looked at Will, "Friday? Oh yes, I'm still interested. Mmmhmm, just like we talked about. A movie? Okay, yeah, that sounds good too, listen, I got company, can I call you back? Okay. Great, See you then. Looking forward to it. Bye."

"So…Tyler," Will's tone was tight.

"He's a nice guy," Lori rationed, her voice then becoming icy, "And Samara, is a nice girl."

"Lori, it's not like that…"

"Please, I saw the way you looked at her," she scoffed, "Besides, it was you who dumped me so-"

"Fuck, I don't want to hear this anymore," Will spit and thundered over to the door, he took hold of the doorknob, remarking snidely over his shoulder, "If you grow a backbone, you give me a call."

He slammed the door behind him and Lori burst into tears, throwing herself on her bed. She sobbed for a while then relaxed, playing once again with the stuffed bunny on her bed. She sniffled, thinking deeply. Maybe she was weak. What had happened to her? She used to have friends. She used to be so compassionate.

Now all she cared about was schoolwork and boys and pills….keeping dreams away at all costs. Maybe Will and Paige were right. Maybe she should just stop taking Hypnoicil. And then her eyes landed on the sketchpad near her bed. It was open, showing clearly a picture of a bloody claw glove.

She shuddered and sat up, grabbing the pad. She shut it, fighting off the urge to rip out each and every picture. She didn't like Samara. She got the nastiest feelings from her but at the same token, could she really allow the girl to be slaughtered by the Dream Stalker? Could she live with herself if that happened? If she sat back and did nothing to stop it?

It had been hours since Paige and Samara disappeared and Will had exited so when the dorm room door shot open, Lori jumped. In the doorway, Paige stood, beaming, "Wait'll you see what we did!"

Samara came around the corner slowly. She still wore the same dark clothes. Still had the same long dark hair hiding her face but now there were bright fire hydrant red streaks placed here and there. 

__

Kia, Lori thought, her breath catching at the hairstyle that had so been a part of the other girl's look. Paige, not noticing, smiled, "She looks real good, huh? With the red streaked in with the black."

Samara did not say a word but instead stared straight at Lori. The blonde swallowed, "It's fine. Look, I'm tried so do you think you guys could…"

"Oh, you're right," Paige laughed, "I get so carried away and it's pretty late. Samara, I know you wanted to meet Lori and spend some time with Will but I sort of stole you away for myself. Maybe next time? Like Friday?"

Samara nodded but first went forward to stand in front of Lori. She looked down at her and Lori felt a chill go through her, "What do you want?"

Samara's hand reached down and took hold of her sketchpad. Lori blushed, "Oh. Yeah. Um…good work by the way. Very…uh…accurate."

Samara turned, practically floating out the door as she left. Paige shut the door behind her and sighed, "Well I'm pooped! I did more talking for the two of us than ya can imagine! I'm gonna take a shower than hop n th' sack."  


Lori watched her enter the bathroom then shut the door behind her. Lori thought of Samara with Kia's red hair streaks. Then she thought of Samara and Will. She reached beneath her pillow and drew out a bottle of Hypnocil. She shook out two pills and chugged them down with a glass of water. 

As she lay back down on the bed and closed her eyes to sleep she continued to struggle over what to do. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue though I will say I don't own Twisted Metal: Black and its characters. They belong to whoever owns them.

Author's Notes: I had to have them play more video games - LOL! And there are just so many good analogies to be made!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 17

Alice Johnson was overcome with a sea of memories. Every where she looked caused her to recall a time long since past. Over there was the park where she used to read and Rick would climb trees. Just to the right was the diner she used to work in. To the left, the movie theater where she and Dan shared one of their first dates. It was all so overwhelming.

Jacob watched the array of emotions pass over his mother's face and felt caught between curiosity and sorrow. He knew this was hard for her and he hated subjecting her to reliving it. A past that was filled with so much pain. So much death. They had arrived only a few days ago, taking residence up in a hotel near the edge of town.

They had driven in and Alice had gone from here to there, telling Jacob in a hushed voice about her past. They visited both Dan and Rick's graves as well as some of Alice's friends. All in all, they were both blue.

Then there had been the drive by of Alice's old home. The house was in good condition and still for sale. In fact the Realtor was offering it for a dirt-cheap price according to the fliers attached to the sign out front. This had not helped to lighten the mood.

Eventually they had decided the best course of action was to first check the hospital, see if the little girl was in residence there, possibly a coma patient. No such luck, Then they went to the local sheriff's office as well as the library and the checking of the local papers. No recent mysterious disappearances or deaths.

Finally there was the high school, which Jacob infiltrated, meeting a few new people and asking some harmless questions. Nobody seemed to be having bizarre dreams nor had there been any strange occurrences at the school, no one dropping dead.

Alice sighed, upset, "That must mean he is just gunning after us. He brought us here for a reason, to get us…"

"But he also has the girl," Jacob rationalized, "And even if he hasn't acted yet, that doesn't mean he's not going to act at all. These kids are in danger. They just don't know it."

She gave a weak nod, "You're right. All it takes is one young, imaginative day dreaming kid and then - bam! He's back and in our faces. But to be at full power and have affected no one in Springwood?"

Jacob rubbed his chin; thoughtful then snapped his fingers, "College."

"What?"  


"Is there a college in town?"

"The local university. But…"

"Come on, Mom," Jacob muttered, rolling his eyes, "College kids aren't that much older than high schoolers. You said yourself even after you graduated-"

"He still came after me," Alice concluded, "Good thinking, Jacob. I guess I'm just too befuddled these days to think straight."

She ran a shaky hand through her blonde hair and he patted her shoulder, "It's okay, Mom."

She sighed, "Let's go."

------------------------------

"You know, I really identify with Sweet Tooth," Freddy muttered as he and Samara played 'Twisted Metal: Black' yet again. This time they were in the parking garage of the power plant he used to work in, sitting in the night security man's booth. 

Freddy had found he rather enjoyed the video game and when Samara's body had fallen asleep to enter the dreamscape again, he had brought them here and summoned it up.

Samara's head cocked to one side, "Why?"

"Because I used to be like him."

She frowned, "A clown?"

"No!" Freddy scowled, "An ice cream truck driver…did it for a short time. For the same reason too, though my kills were younger."

She shrugged and he turned to look at her. He eyed the red strands, "What'dja do that for?"

There was no reply and he chuckled, claws snatching out to snap off a few red strands. He drew them over and smelled them for a moment then dropped them, "Looks good. But then," he ran a hand along his tattered old sweater, "I am a bit biased when it comes to stripes."

Samara did not respond but she did seem pleased by his flattery. Freddy looked again in her direction curiously. Since acquiring the body he had noted a change in her, one that he wasn't sure whether to like or not. 

She had certainly become more talkative but she had also seemed more…emotional. Much more than she did in spirit form. Perhaps it was because he could actually see her face now, her hair rarely covering it. But then, he was seeing _Becca's_ face. 

Maybe this was the difference. She never transformed into her actual form. In some ways he missed the child, but then how could he not crave the teenager who actually bleed? Not some magic, not dirty water but real red blood. And having someone who looked so much like his prey…

He couldn't wait until Friday. Samara had told him of the club and her planned attendance. She had also made some rather dry comments on part of meeting Lori but he had waved it off. He was looking forward to Friday too much by fucking it up and slitting the impudent bitch's throat.

He often thought about it, doing Samara in. Even though there was truly no point. All he'd do is kill the body she currently possessed; her spirit form would live on. But still, sometimes her fucking attitude grated his last nerve and he had all ready let her get away with far too much. But he still couldn't risk pissing her off and losing out on getting his power.

And a very, tiny, teensy part of him had to admit he enjoyed teaching her how to control the dreamscape. She had gotten much better since last time, probably in part to his obvious non-existent patience. Learn quick or don't learn at all. Or more accurately, learn quick or get slashed at with metal razors.

There was also her company. He had never thought of himself as wanting company on the dreamscape but playing video games, talking about kills…it wasn't bad. At least it was something to do until actual slaughter could take place. Speaking of reminiscing on victims…

Freddy laughed as he looked at the video game, "Ya know, I killed a kid in a video game once. In this very booth too. It was an older system then, graphics weren't as good as this but I made that fucking kid jump through hopes. Used a power glove and everything when I killed him."

"You're dead," Samara quipped quietly.

"What?!" Freddy sat up and looked at the screen to see his character, Sweet Tooth, had been destroyed. Samara's own character, Dollface, had won. He growled and tossed down his controller, crossing his arms, "You cheated."

She looked at him, eyes bottomless as she said with a tiny shrug, "Of course."

Freddy felt his bruised ego heal a bit after her confession when suddenly she disappeared on spot. He frowned then realized what had happened, someone must have woken her body. Bored, and with not much else to do until she came back or another Springwood brat fell asleep, he snapped his fingers and the screen changed from the video game to show Samara at school.

"Sleeping at school," Freddy chided with a dark chuckle as the action in the outside world began.

------------------------------

Samara slowly came to life as Disher leaned over her, "Hey, what are you doing sleeping here, babe?"

She blinked a few times and remembered she had gone outside after class and taken a seat under the shade of a tree in the Quad, the sun warm enough to cause a nice sleepy heat. A nap had been an ideal choice at the time, eager to return to the dreamscape and Freddy, back to things that felt normal.

Too long had she been in the living world. Her grandparents fawning over her and other students doing the same. It was all too different than what she was used to. She needed what was real. She really needed to kill someone. 

Friday was looking better and better. 

Disher took a seat neat to her and drew out a rolled up joint, "You mind?"

She shook her head, looking at the funny cigarette. He took a deep toke and then held it out for her, "You want some herbal?"

She smelled it and shook her head again. He took another hit, "This shit makes me tired. Maybe I'll fall asleep like you did, hmm? You can rest up on me if you want, you know, we can sleep together."

He burst into laughter and she did not respond, instead shooting him a look. She recalled Freddy invading this boy's wet dream. She hoped they got to kill him first. She was just about to rise to her feet and walk away when he reached a hand out and tugged at one of her red streaks, "This is pretty awesome, babes, who did this for you?"

She pulled out of his grip and was gathering her things, preparing to leave, when her sketchpad fell to the ground. Disher snapped it up, "Oh. Here. You dropped this."

He rose to his feet as well and held it out for her as he continued to smoke his weed. He looked over the sketches, seeing yet again Freddy's face staring back at him. He shuddered slightly, "You know, I saw this guy in my dreams too, babes. I was having a good dream too 'till he showed up, you need to draw something a little nicer, give people sweet dreams, you know, not nightmares."

Samara held out a hand in response, wanting her sketchpad but Disher merely continued to hold it, "Maybe you need some help getting sweet dreams too, hmm? I could help you there."

His free hand reached out and ran along her face as Samara shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly Disher saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked down. He could have sworn he saw something move on the sketchpad. 

He shook his head and reached for Samara again when he saw the movement again. He looked down at the drawing of Freddy and it moved quickly, looking at him to growl, "Back off! She's taken!"

Disher yelped and dropped the sketchpad as if it were hot. Samara caught it in her hands and flashed Disher an angry glare as she turned and stalked off. Disher had also dropped his weed and he looked at it smoking on the ground,. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Daydream."

He ground the weed out with the heel of his foot and then went back to the tree to gather his own things. He remembered that he still had to distribute fliers for the band tonight. He pulled out a few and began handing them out when he saw a cute blonde. She had a young kid with her as they approached.

"Hey babe, what's up?" Disher greeted the blonde.

"Not much, um, my son and I were…"

__

Oh. Kid. Bummer. Still, Mom's need love too, Disher thought with a grin as he held out a flier, "I know what you need little lady, you need to get out. How about you and Junior here check out me and my band tonight at The Foxglove?"

Alice took the flier as Jacob glared at Disher, "This is a place where kids hang out?"

"Sure. It's got a bar but you need to have ID, real groovy place, great music, the best music this Friday actually when my boys and I get rocking. You should be there, pretty mama, you're too young to just stay at home wasting the night away. You need to get out and have some fun!"

"And you need to get out of our face," Jacob muttered and grabbed his mother's wrist, leading her away as Disher looked on puzzled. Alice blushed, embarrassed, "Jacob…"

"Mom, I want you to date, but not _that_ guy," Jacob scowled.

"Jacob, he's a child anyway, I would never…" she shook her head and looked at the flier as her son released her wrist, "This could be a good idea, if different kinds of kids go here we may get some good answers…"

"Sounds like a plan," Jacob said as he and his mother continued on their way.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Two chapters for the price of one! Woo hoo! Before I make my comments, I thought I'd let you all know that this upcoming week -Halloween week!- I promise nothing more than tricks and treats in each chapter - in other words, we've got tricks with lots of blood, death, gore and…well…I'll let you imagine the treats for yourself. *^_^*

Agent A.T. - You have NO idea how close you are to uncovering how the first kill is going to take place! You should win a door prize or something! : -)

CarryTheZero - Glad to see you back, Zero and hope all goes well with moving in!

Ayezur Draca - Thanks for reviewing! I hope to continue to please!

A Nightmare On Water Street - I don't know if you got my e-mail but I seriously want the cover art thing you made so I can put it on my website! Pretty please send it to me!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 18

The Foxglove was all ready humming with action. Named after the plant, the owners of the establishment thought it would be fun to go with a forest theme. The walls were covered with fake ivy and other greenery; the actual foxglove itself captured in several plastic glass cases embedded deep in the walls for display.

All the workers, save for the bouncers, were required to wear silly little headbands with fox ears on the them and the front stage was currently being primed and set for this evening's performance. 

The air in the club was thick and hot, several young bodies moving around, ordering drinks, dancing on the floor as the current DJ mixed out some heavy, deep techno tracks. Strobe lights above flickered on and off to the beat as well as several colorful lights that rotated around wildly. 

Maggie Burroughs and her friend Doc had never felt more out of place but continued to flitter their way thorough the madness, eventually finding a safe haven in the back of the club near the bar. 

Angela Walsh eventually made her way over as well, once again dressed smartly, this time in knee high black boots, a black skirt and pink turtleneck tank top. She went over to the bar and ordered a drink, showing her ID first. She approached them with a smile, shouting over the loud music; "This is some place, huh?"

Maggie and Doc merely nodded as she roared; "I saw several of the students here. I think you'll do really well on your survey."

"Thanks!" Maggie called once again eyeing Angela's dress. She herself wore black slacks, a white blouse, and suit jacket. She sighed.

"I'm gonna go and talk to some of the kids, blend in like a native!" Angela laughed, "I'll try and get some good statistics for you while I go around, okay?"

"That'd be great! Thank you!" Doc hollered as Angela walked away, he turned his attention to Maggie, "Depressed?"

"I feel old," Maggie muttered.

Doc just shook his head, "Angela didn't graduate college that long ago herself. She's still transitioning."

"It's funny though," Maggie muttered, "I feel like I never went through that stage…like I've always been an adult."

"Some of us are lucky," Doc encouraged,

She threw her head back and laughed, "Liar."

Doc chuckled, "Come on, let's go do our own investigating…"

Doc and Maggie moved back into the melee just as Alice Johnson and Jacob entered the club's front doors. Jacob had never been in a club but was now glad he had dressed nicely as he looked over the scantily clad, but highly attractive girls dancing.

Alice saw the look on his face and swatted his arm, "Hey! These girls are too old and too fast!"

"They don't look too old," Jacob muttered under his breath as his eyes bounced from one girl to another. Alice took hold of his shoulder and turned him to her, "Focus!"

Jacob nodded firmly and followed his mother around, eyes still wandering. They weaved their way through the dance floor, passing several sweat-encrusted, dance-locked teen bodies, including Paige, who was squealing happily as she spotted Will entering. She bounced up and down, waving in his direction as he came over.

"Hi!" she said brightly, eyes sparkling.

"Wow, you're happy to see me?" Will asked, confused.

"Duh, how can I not be psyched?" Paige gushed, "The music is rockin' and any second now your new girly girl is going to show up, ya know I gave her a make-over, wait'll ya see, yer jaw'll drop."

"Girly girl?"

"S-A-MM-Y!" Paige sang loudly.

Will couldn't explain why he was blushing as he avoided Paige's eyes, "She's not my girl."

"Uh huh," Paige giggled, "Not the impression I got from Lor, boy was she steamed, but then Tyler showed up tonight and she was all starry-eyed…"

"Great," Will mumbled, not really caring to discuss Lori. Instead his eyes searched the room for Samara, "So…Sam's coming?"

"You bet, I convinced her to come…least I think I did," Paige said, then batted his arm and began rocking her hips in his direction, "Now how about ya loosen up 'till she gets here and shake your ass wit' me on this dance floor?"

To try and encourage him Paige shimmed all around him but Will was not interested, instead he held up his hands and backed away, "No thanks, you should save all that for Disher, you know?"

Paige rolled her eyes, "Puh-lease, Mr. Rock-N-Roll hasn't even shown his face yet. Probably too busy in the back, making out with his guitar or some junk…"

"Still, I gotta go that way now." Will said, forking his thumb off behind him as he turned and walked off, eager to get away from the obviously sugar-injected Paige who merely let out another loud squeal as she hopped back into the now massive rave that had formed in the middle of the club's dance floor.

Will shook his head, who would have thought a girl who looked so modest was such a rocker? Clubs, drinking, raves…he wasn't into this whole scene. Sure, every now and then it was nice to get out and hang with your friends but this? No, he liked more laid back, comfortable settings.

The loud music, the screams…it reminded him too much of Westin. He preferred sweet silence and soft talk much more than sounds that recalled his time spent in the nut house. 

He wouldn't have even come tonight save for the fact that Disher had been so adamant and Will didn't want to hurt his feelings. He may not be great friends with the guy but there was no harm in encouraging him. After all, Will needed to get out more and make friends. And then there was the appeal of Sam showing up. 

He had actually planned on asking her to come with him. He was pleased when Paige confessed that she had gotten the girl to agree to come. But then, that was only mere speculation. There was still every likely chance that Sam would not show. 

Will was so lost in thought that he wasn't paying attention, causing him to bump into a girl in front of him. There was a gasp as her drink tipped forward, splashing her.

Will blinked, startled. "Oh god, I'm so sorry!"

She gave a tiny smile and shrugged, "It's all right."

Will looked around, desperate for a napkin and found a few on a nearby table. He handed them to her, "No, really, I feel awful…"

"It's no problem," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she took the napkins and began dabbing her chest.

Suddenly his vision seemed to kick in and he finally saw her. She looked very young and her eyes were the most amazing shade of blue green. She kept trying to push arrant strands of brown hair behind her ear as she discarded the wet napkins and adjusted her top. She looked at him and turned a soft shade of pink

Will swallowed and began babbling incoherently, "I - I should have been watching where I was going. I hope your top's not ruined, I was just - I should have - I wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's understandable in place like this," she remarked, squinting slightly, "Being so dark and loud. And anyway, no harm's done."

His eyes scanned her again as he said succinctly, "I don't think I've ever seen you before…are you a student at the University or are you from out of town?"

She laughed, "Not exactly. I'm the new guidance counselor, Angela Walsh."

She held out her hand and Will took it in his own, giving it a gentle shake. However, he was completely dumfounded, "_You're_ the counselor?"

"I know, don't look much like one, don't act much like one," she laughed again, "Actually I'm on assignment. I'm helping a colleague gather some information. I was pretty distracted thinking about it so it was probably me who bumped into you."

"Nah, I'm big and clumsy trust me," Once the words were out of his mouth, Will immediately wanted to hit himself violently in the forehead several times. Big and clumsy? What was he thinking?!

He changed the subject in an attempt to save himself, "So what kind of information are you gathering?"

She looked into his eyes, a warm smile on her face, "Well, first you have to tell me your name."

"Oh," he turned red, scratching behind his ear, "Will Rollins."

"Well Will, what do you dream about?" she asked softly.

Will was about to answer when suddenly a big crowd of kids rudely pushed through. They tossed both Will and Angela aside so that they were separated. The kids were noisy and horsing around, quickly exiting the club to walk past Samara.

Her pale face was set, hair dancing in front of her face as if it planned to hide it then falling away again to show more pale skin. The blazing red streaks stuck out like a sore thumb and as she drew closer to the front door she pulled in a deep breath, her eyes sealing closed as she thought of all the victims inside. It was time for the fun to begin.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Second chapter just as promised! Also wanted to let you all know I'm glad you enjoyed the video game playing and I wanted to thank you all again a bunch for reviewing - it makes my days bearable and worth getting up for!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 19

Paul Disher always had to toke up before a performance. Smoking a thick fatty always helped to settle his nerves; it even helped him to play better. His fingers moved more smoothly over the strings.

It especially would help tonight. It wasn't that he was nervous about playing the Foxglove, no, it was much more than that. He was on edge because of the sleep he'd been missing. Ever since those nightmares had began he hadn't been able to get much shuteye.

He had been having the worst fucking dreams. Always the same, always with that old, burnt up child killing bastard. He shuddered, what was that fucker's name again? Freddy? He was just supposed to be an urban legend, not real…right?

Of course not, it was just nightmares was all, silly little dreams. After this performance tonight he would go home and he would get some much-needed rest. He'd relax and come to his senses. There was no dream stalking boogieman coming to get him in the sack, that job was all ready taken by lots of pretty girls.

He chuckled at that thought, rising to his feet. He was currently alone backstage, his band mates off preparing their equipment. He walked up to the curtain and eased it back just enough to take a peek into the interior of the club. 

He could all ready tell tonight was going to be rocking. Over a hundred people were out there, a good chunk of whom were dancing and he knew these were the one's who'd be screaming and jamming the hardest when they played. 

He vaguely considered the possibility of crowd surfing tonight. If he thought it was possible, he'd sure as hell do it. He'd just have to make sure they put on a show that got them riled enough. But then, that was always his goal, to give people something they would never forget. 

He could see Paige dancing to one side and he grinned. Poor girl, she was crazy about him. Too bad he wasn't the commitment type. Too bad she wasn't banging enough to bag either. 

His vision moved onwards to see Will talking to Ms. Walsh. He kept his eye on Walsh. Or should he call her Angela? He didn't care if she was faculty, she looked like a cover girl and he wanted nothing more than to get a handful of that. Look at the way she dressed! She was just asking for it. 

He shook his head and took another deep drag of his weed. It floated through his system, giving him that soft, heavy feeling that made him want to sleep, his eyelids drooping slightly. His gaze landed on the entrance, allowing him to see Samara enter.

God, and he thought Angela was a dream. Sam topped her _and_ Paige combined with that new look of hers. But then, when didn't she look hot? She may be a complete whack job but she was still a betty. 

Just like Will, he had noticed her when she had first entered their Art class. He had told Will to stay away but he was never one to heed his own advice. When he'd seen her asleep under the tree he had just wanted to touch her so bad. Hell, he _had_ touched her but then that shit with the sketch had happened. 

Her drawings of Freddy were responsible for his nightmares and while he knew he should be pissed at her, he found he couldn't bring himself to. And why? 'Cause he wanted her pale, skinny little ass bad. 

Probably more so than Will, who had been following her around puppy-dog eyed. But frankly, Disher felt he had the advantage and what's more, he deserved a shot at the girl first. 

Disher had dated Lori and he knew that that girl had not been sufficiently satisfied by Will, and as much as he wanted to be friends with the guy, Disher had to say the boy was lacking skills. Sam deserved a real man taking a knock at her. And who knew how long she'd been in Westin? Girl was probably dying for it. 

He chuckled again when suddenly Samara looked up, as if hearing him. He froze as her eyes locked with his. Suddenly ice water filled his veins and he let the curtain drop, cutting off his view. He shook himself; he must have just imagined that.

Too much pot had to be in his system, there was no way she could have seen him from that far away. But the look in her eyes, that cold, dark look…it was like…

He rubbed his arms, still feeling the chill. How could someone so hot make you feel so cold? He could still see Sam's eyes in his mind and he edged towards the curtain, debating whether to take another peak. This was ridiculous! He'd draw the material back and see nothing there. Sam had probably joined up with Will, there was no way she could have known Disher was looking at her. 

With a sigh he pulled back the curtain once more and Samara was standing right there, inches from him, dark hair parted just enough to reveal one side of her face, skin covered in horrible bulging veins, a cold white blue eye greeting him.

Crying out, he backed away as her eye continued to stare at him with such burning intensity, such utter contempt. He fell onto his ass, crawling backwards, knocking into several pieces of equipment, he kept moving until he couldn't anymore, his back meeting with the resistance of a large, heavy amp.

He felt like his skin was on fire and he looked down, seeing his hands turn a sickly gray-green, skin bubbling, veins pulsing and twisting beneath his flesh. He screamed, squeezing his eyes tight.

Then it was gone. He opened his eyes, startled. Panting he checked his hands over again and again. They were fine, normal. He looked up, Samara was no where to be seen. He let out a shaky laugh. Holy shit, this weed he was smoking was either bad or seriously too good. He'd never tripped like that before.

He leaned his head back, taking in a deep breath. He needed to stop smoking and get some sleep. Maybe he could take a little nap before the show, he let his eyes drift shut again.

------------------------------

Will jumped up and down, eyes tossing about eagerly for some sight of Angela. He hated getting separated from her. He was very curious as to why she had asked him about his dreams, that particular line of questioning could prove to be important.

And a small part of him had to admit she intrigued him in general. Jesus, was he turning into a Disher wannabe? Checking out a member of the school faculty? Her face flashed in his mind again and he cursed under his breath. Her eyes had looked like the sea after a storm, just…perfect.

But then his gaze landed on someone whose eyes were equally enthralling but for entirely different reasons. Samara moved through the whole scene like a ghost, which was appropriate considering her dress. 

Instead of the normal dark Goth gown, she had on a long, lacy white dress and old-fashioned patent leather white shoes, similar to the kind a young child would wear. Her dark hair now carried red streaks that caused Will to automatically recall Kia. The look had been attractive on Lori's friend but on Samara it was breathtaking. As if her eyes didn't do that job good enough.

Said eyes landed on him, as dark and deep as ever and she made her way over, face neutral. He walked over to her, almost in a daze as he whispered, "I've been waiting for you….you look amazing."

Her own eyes flickered over him and for a moment he grew self-conscious. He was his normal casual self – brown jacket, big sweater, blue jeans. She looked delicate but stylish. Maybe he should have dressed up a bit more for the occasion. Wait a minute, what occasion? This was not a date, he reminded himself when he noticed the look he was receiving.

Samara's features were as passive as usual but he thought somewhere in her face he saw approval. Her own way of complimenting him back. He gave her a white toothed grin, "Do you want to dance?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she looked at the dance floor, her arms folding. No, dancing was obviously out. His grin stayed in place, "How about we get a seat then? We can talk until the band starts playing, they should be on soon."

She gave him one short nod and he grinned, holding out his hand. She looked at it a moment, then took it with her own. Her fingers were cold and damp but he found he was beginning to like that feeling.

They took a seat at a nearby table close to the bar. Jacob and Alice passed their table, Jacob speaking into his mother's ear, "Mom, no one here knows anything." 

"I know, but we have to keep trying."

"No, what we need to do is take a breather. Let's sit, the band should start playing soon and once their performance is over everyone will be worn out and more willing to talk."

Alice sighed but gave a shrug of defeat, "All right, but after the concert, we question some more kids."

Jacob nodded and as they moved to their own table Maggie and Doc edged their way by, "Do you see Angela anywhere?"

"I can't see much of anything in this mess. How many kids are here anyway?"

"I don't know, Doc, but I can tell you one thing, this concert is going to be nuts. Maybe we should sit it out for a while, let Angela find us."

"Sounds good, especially to my aching feet," Doc muttered and he flopped into a chair nearby. Maggie taking her own seat across from him.

The unsuspecting duos all sat only a few tables away from one another. All around them were swarming, exciting teens and young adults. Some of whom had obviously had either too much to drink or smoke, maybe even a few on drugs. A select few had also sat down, drifting in and out of slumber. 

Those awake and well were still on the dance floor, bopping about madly to the techno music, ready to have a fun time, completely unaware of what was lurking around in their midst, waiting for just the right moment to strike.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Trick or Treat! First trick! Keep your eyes peeled, I plan on trying to update everyday straight to Halloween - things are going to start moving real fast here on out.

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 20

Disher's legs kicked effortlessly and he opened his eyes, licking his lips. Man was it hot. It had to be well over a hundred degrees. He found his body was soaked in perspiration. He moaned. Shit, was he getting a fever? He sat up, scratching the back of his soaked scalp. How did it get so hot? 

__

TWANG!

A frown formed, "What the fuck…"

He looked around, wondering what he had just heard. No one was around. Were his band mates fucking with him? He cleared his throat, "Chris? Kevin? You guys out there?"

No answer.

"Come on guys, don't mess around with me, all right? I'm not in the mood."

Once again, no answer. Disher sighed and rose to his feet.

__

TWANG!

He cursed and looked around again, wildly this time, trying to locate the source of the sound. His vision eventually landed on his metal guitar. Two of the cords had broken, snapped in half. His eyes narrowed as he approached it, how had that happened? Had they been cut?

He got closer and could tell the base of the instrument was beaded with water. The two busted strings appeared as if they hadn't been cut but melted. His forehead crinkled, that was impossible. It couldn't get hot enough to do that. Heck, even cutting them seemed far-fetched as it was a bit of a challenge to gnaw through the thick metal coils.

Then he heard a sound above him. He looked up at the catwalk to see no one there. He could have sworn he heard footsteps up there, someone walking across the metal grating. He tried to focus but it was so hard in the blazing heat that was engulfing the room, the very air thick and hard to breathe.

__

Scrreeeechhhh!

Disher froze, eyes widening in fear. He knew that sound, it was prevalent in his nightmares. The ones that featured _him_. His head tossed from side to side, trying to catch a glimpse of Freddy but he was no where in sight.

"If anyone's out there, just come on out!" Disher bellowed. He looked up at that catwalk again. It was shaking slightly and he thought he saw something on one of the pipes above.

He strained his eyes and could make out light scratches marks marring the metal. He swallowed, "Oh shit…"

He turned, ready to run only to come face to face with Freddy, who cocked his head to one side. Disher let out a loud scream and backed up as Freddy chuckled, not advancing. 

Instead he looked down at the guitar at his feet. There was a rapid set of loud twangs as the rest of the cords on the guitar broke and came loose, unraveling, freeing themselves from the base of the instrument.

Disher was shaking his head vehemently, "N- no, look, look, you - you stay- stay the fuck away from me, all right!? Just back the fuck off…don't - don't make me hurt you…"

Freddy tossed back his head and laughed, "You should be proud, Disher, you get the honor of being the first."

"F - First?"

"First of my children," Freddy purred, "It's been so long since I've done this, so you'll have to excuse me if things get a little…sloppy."

Disher turned, starting to run but the guitar cords flew after him, wrapping around his neck. He gagged, hands going to his throat, trying to pull the coils away but they merely grew tighter, digging into the skin. 

Freddy sighed, contemplating aloud, "In the beginning I was very methodical. Gut a Springwood brat, move on to the next but recently I've found myself being over the top, infatuated with torture and jokes. I've been thinking of changing again. Reverting back to my old methods. As the first, I'd like your opinion."

His eyes slowly rose upwards and the cords, under his mental command, followed his eye movement, rising upwards, wrapping around the catwalk railing above. Disher began coughing, sputtering as the cords formed a noose around his neck and started to lift him into the air, choking him. Freddy was next to his side in a flash, "So what do you say? Quick and vicious or slow and entertaining?"

Disher merely gurgled, his eyes bulging, face red, fingers clawed, still struggling with the guitar strings that were slowly killing him. Freddy laughed, "Or maybe a little bit of both is in order, hmm?"

The cords began to reel in upwards, tugging Disher higher into the air. Disher's feet dangled above the ground, toe tips bearly brushing the surface of the stage. He let out a rattling gasp, tears leaking out of his eyes. Freddy eased near his ear, "That's what's wrong with you musicians today. You can't just listen to the music, you have to _feel_ it."

Freddy looked at the boy and watched with overwhelming joy as he began shaking his head vehemently, pleading for his life. He let out another laugh and jerked his head upwards violently, causing the cords to react, tugging upwards higher, harder, more tightly, quickly pulling Disher into the air.

He let out a cry as they constricted roughly around his throat, the last of his oxygen cut off, his neck snapping slightly under the pressure. His whole body struggled a few moments, limbs flapping with a twinge of the death nerve then stopping, feet bowing downwards, pointing towards the ground.

Freddy looked up at his masterpiece, felt a fresh new soul slip into his charred body and laughed. He was back and boy did it feel good.

------------------------------

"Man, you - like- see Disher anywhere, man?"

"Nah, I don't know where he's gone off to."

"Dude! We - like - have to play in - like - five minutes, dude."

"I know, man, we'll just have to go ahead."

"But we need Disher, Chris, he's – like - the lead singer."

"I know Kev, but we'll just have to make do. Maybe he's off taking a shit or smoking herb or banging a chick, you know how he is. If he hears the opening chords of our song, he'll come running no matter where he is and you know he'll hear it because the sound system here rules! People in Tokyo'll probably hear us."

"You're right, dude, and, - like, - the show must go on or some junk - like - that."

"Right on!" Chris laughed and the two high fived. They grabbed their instruments and set up quickly. The techno music outside the curtain ended and a voice announced the band was ready to perform. Howls and applause filled the air.

The two boys were nervous but ready, confident their leading player would show. But just as the curtain was about to part something wet dropped onto Kevin's shoulder. He frowned and reached up, touching it. It was some sticky substance. He ran it between his fingers and looked upwards, wanting to see where it came from.

He let out a loud scream of terror as the curtains parted. Paige, who had her eyes fixed on the stage, saw exactly what Kevin did and released an ear splitting screech. Hanging high above the center stage from the catwalk was Paul Disher's body, guitar cords wrapped so tightly around his throat that blood had trickled out of his mouth.

Suddenly, those knocked out from too much drinks, drugs, and fun in the back began screaming. Blood burst into the air in fresh sprays as the sleeping people began being butchered. Alice and Maggie both leapt up, simultaneously saying loudly, "FREDDY!"

The two women turned, facing each other, both opened mouthed and wide-eyed. Will too was shocked and slowly rose, looking from woman to woman, asking aloud, "You two both know about Freddy?"

Samara had all ready risen and had backed away from the group. So all the prey was finally together in one place. Meeting for the first time. It was almost poetic. As was the blood and hunks of flesh that were flying through the air. The club had become a frantic mad house, screaming, hysterical people running for their lives.

The exits were jammed, some unfortunate souls even being trampled under foot. Samara looked around, not able to take in all the sights and sounds. It was amazing. Wonderful. She had never seen anything like it. So much terror, so much death, so much panic. She was in complete awe.

Freddy was moving quickly through the crowds like an invisible monster, tearing through whatever sleeping individual was in his path. It was a massacre. Samara's white gown was liberally coated in fresh blood and she ran her hands over it, blinking. And for the first time that she could remember, it was hard not to smile.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Another trick! Sorry there was no update yesterday, I said I'd try to get a chapter up everyday and since I neglected that I'm probably going to go for another double whammy, two chapters tomorrow for Halloween!

Thanks very much to new reviewer Refault Pope, what you said was really sweet!

George Smillie - It's good to see you again, bud! Check out his Harry vs. Freddy if you're a Harry Potter fan too, the story is beast!

Pmad - Sorry, no big confrontation just yet - got some more killing to do, not to mention everyone still has to unravel the 'mystery' behind Freddy's return and his supposed kidnap of the little girl…man are they slow! Also I've got Angela's past to spill and some other surprises.

**On that note, I would like to say I'm sorry this story has become so freaking long! Funny how it started off so small and spewed out to something so huge! This is the longest fic I've ever written and I know some of you are probably rolling your eyes think _'Is she ever going to reach the end of this thing_?' I promise you there is an end and hopefully you'll enjoy the ride until then, but for those of you who like smaller works, my apologies - I wish my muse wasn't so chatty too! *^_^*

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 21

Will looked over at Samara sitting in the passenger side seat of his van. He had bought a van similar to the one Mark used to have - he figured it was because he was bizarrely sentimental. Funny, long ago, it would have been Lori in that seat.

Hell, it had been her in that seat the night of the whole Freddy/Jason fiasco and look - now it was happening all over again. But there was a different girl at his side. This one so much more…something. Something he still couldn't place his finger on.

However, at this particular moment, she was fast asleep. Face pressed against her arm which rested on the closed window. He hadn't questioned her since the incident at the Foxglove - she had reacted in a way that was not unexpected given the circumstances - quiet shock. Or at least that was what he thought it was.

Perhaps she slept in hopes of wiping away the horrible images of the evening. But then - didn't she say Freddy was in her dreams? He eyed her warily. How could she bear to sleep if that was true? 

But then there was so much pain inside her, something hidden that he knew caused the dark, bottomless look in her eyes. In some ways, he got the sneaking suspicion that she didn't care if she lived or died. God, what had they _done_ to her in Westin? 

Even in his most dismal of moments in the institution, he had never wanted to just…cease existing like she seemed to. He shook his head as his thoughts drifted back to the club.

In the eye of the chaotic storm that the Foxglove had become, Will had been introduced to both Maggie and Alice - the two women who had both cried Freddy's name when the attacks began - two women who both not only knew of Freddy's existence but had faced him before.

Until then, It had never occurred to him that there might be others. That realization made him feel quite naive. Freddy had been around a long time - of course there had to be previous people he'd terrorized.

They had not been able to reveal their own personal war stories in such a messy atmosphere so the decision had been made to meet back up at Alice's hotel which was where he currently found himself driving. The thought of hearing these women tell their own tales about Freddy both intrigued and sickened him - god, how could he be fascinated to know what else that bastard had done in the past?

But he was, because he knew knowledge was the key to defeating this man. Not some stupid act of testosterone, not some grand standing, not some generic comebacks - logic. There had to be some way that someone just hadn't thought of. But then, it was hard to think straight when you were scared to death.

His thoughts flashed to poor Disher hanging above the stage…the look on his face, the blood…and then there had been those kids who'd passed out from drinks - their bodies torn apart before everyone's eyes by an invisible demon. It had been beyond horrifying to see them fly around…just like Mark…tortured by unseen claws.

Then there was Angela. Her timid smile, her captivating eyes…did she make it out okay? Was she safe? How could he even be thinking of her now? He shook his head again, trying to keep his eyes on the road.

And what about Paige? Will had wanted to bring the girl with him but she had gotten lost in the crowd. He knew she must have been heartbroken. He had always gotten the impression that she had had a secret crush on Disher. What was all of this doing to her?

And Disher…Jesus, he was dead. Fucking dead! And all because of Krueger…

Will's gaze went to Samara again and he sighed, a weary smile forming, as he looked at her so peaceful in slumber. She did look very good tonight. A stray strand of hair had fallen into her face and as they pulled to a stop at a light he reached over, sweeping it back behind her ear, carefully brushing her cheek.

The skin was so cold beneath his fingertips…and slightly damp as well. He let his hands linger only a moment longer before returning them to the wheel. As he drove he couldn't help but hope that while she slept she had sweet dreams. Sweet-unvisited-by-Freddy-dreams.

And if he thought she was in the slightest hint of trouble from that clawed psycho…

Will lips created a tight, determined line as his thoughts thundered, _there'll be hell to pay._

------------------------------

Paige burst into her and Lori's dorm room, still wailing hysterically. She tossed herself upon her bed her whole body racked with each sob. God, all she could see was the blood and Disher, hanging there by his neck, dead.

Dead! Jesus Christ, he was dead! She would never talk to him again, never hear his voice. How could he have done that? He had killed himself! Had actually committed suicide and by hanging himself no less, she had always thought him to be a happy person, not the kind to…

And she had cared about him, so much more than he ever even knew. She had always teased him but deep down she had always hoped one day he would see her, _really_ see her or maybe she would have gotten the nerve but now that chance was gone, lost forever.

After the curtain had drawn back, after the horrible sight before her and screaming for what felt like an eternity, she had fled with the others and ran back to the dorm. Just ran. She couldn't wait to talk to the police or try and figure out what happened, she couldn't even bear the thought of finding Will.

Alone to grieve, to wallow in shock and pain. God, she wished she was dead, she couldn't stand this! Her whole being hurt and her skull ached. It seemed so unreal, so bad that it was impossible. Paul Disher had died tonight. He would be cried over, buried, missed…and all because he had hung himself.

Or had he? This sudden shift in thought gave her pause in her crazed crying. She sniffled, eyes burning, throat raw, face coated in wet tears and snot. Could he have been murdered?

She reached for some tissues near her bed and wiped away the mess, her sobs having softened into breathless pants. She could still see Disher's face in her mind, she knew she would never forget it, that it would haunt her to the end of her days. Therapy bills all ready in mind as the sight resurfaced before her.

His eyes open, hands and feet pointing downwards lifelessly, blood dripping from his mouth onto his shirt and below, tongue morbidly to one side. He used to waggle that tongue all the time in a joking matter. Did he even imagine it would end up like that? Did he even really hang himself or did someone tighten that noose around his neck and kill him?

Paige blinked a few times, a sudden blanket of exhaustion settling over her. This evening had been too much and she found herself eager to escape into sleep, into dreams where everything was all right and none of this horror had happened, where Disher was still alive.

She closed her eyes.

She opened them. The blood red sun was setting and she was back home on the farm. She looked behind her to see the endless cornfield, its' stalks bending slightly under the breeze. It was beautiful country here. Everything alive, everything fresh. More earth than concrete, more trees than buildings and the air - so crisp and sweet, no smoke, no exotic smells - just clean.

She turned and began to walk through the rows. Unlike some, she had never feared the endless lines of corn. Instead she had always found it to be peaceful, reassuring. Much of her childhood had been spent playing in these fields. Her and her friends would cut a few stalks free, use them as fake weapons of combat and play until the night came and her mother hollered from their front porch.

She'd come home, dirty and happy, with many stories to tell and then the next day she'd do it all over again. Her father even put her in charge of the field, remaking, "Paige, honey, if yer gonna spend so much time in that thar corn, ya might as well pick it."

And she did. It wasn't like she minded, on the contrary, she loved doing it. Pulling away the shucks to feel the softest cornstalk imaginable spread over her fingers, to stare at the baby white ears beneath. And the smells…to her it was magic.

She crossed her arms and strolled down a row, a smile on her face when a man jumped out in front of her. She cried out, startled, then let out a laugh, feeling very ridiculous. A scarecrow was before her, his hands tied to the posts above.

Paige had always been a fan of scarecrows - they had been her secret friends. Many a time she had snuck out to speak to them. They all had names and lives, all of her own creation. She could converse with them for hours and while she received no answers in return it had not mattered - just talking to 'someone' was enough.

The one before her was one she had made herself. His name was Mr. Bojangles and he was a country singer and fabulous dancer. He was also…

She cut through one row to the next until she reached a second scarecrow - this one distinctly female. Her name was Betty Luo and she was engaged to Mr. Bojangles, her most notable feature her over stuffed D-Cup bra, giving her a more hilarious look than one to strike fear into the tiny hearts of crows. 

Paige giggled, continuing on her journey as the sun sank lower behind the horizon, bathing the area with its crimson glow. There was Jonathan Crane, Miss Peabody and who could forget Doctor Craven? All her friends were still here and it was delightful to see them again. 

She plucked an ear of corn off of one stalk, her fingers starting to unwrap it when she noticed another scarecrow before her. She frowned, muttering under her breath, "I don't remember this one."

She walked closer to it, squinting. It sure did look familiar but from where? It had never been on her farm - she would have remembered someone building it - or rather _him_.

He wore a striped sweater and filthy slacks, his hands tied behind his back just like all the others. Atop his bowed head he wore a fedora but it was easy to tell the skin was disfigured.

She scoffed, walking closer to it. She poked it with one finger but it did not move. Her lower lip stuck out in confusion as her hands began to fiddle with the husk of the corn. Then it snapped into place - this scarecrow looked like the pictures Sam drew of that man. What was his name again?

__

Freddy Krueger.

The name stuck out in her thoughts so quickly that she shivered, remembering what had been said in the art class that day. He was a child murderer…she turned away, not wanting to look at him anymore. This was a happy dream - she preferred to keep it that way. She'd have to scold Sam later for her creepy drawing. It may have been a nice piece of art but it wasn't cool how it was affecting her.

But then it wasn't Sam's fault right? Just Paige's own stupid subconscious'.

She chided herself as silly and returned her eyes to the corn in her hand, unaware that behind her the Freddy scarecrow was moving, slowly unhooking his hands from behind his back and lowering himself to the ground. He moved forward in a slow pace as Paige unwrapped the corn revealing the cornsilk beneath.

The funny thing was - this cornsilk didn't feel like it normally did. Instead it felt more like hair…and skin. Paige's frown returned as she tore away at the silk - feeling it fall apart in her hands when the pearl rows of corn beneath appeared…but they weren't normal…they felt too polished and smooth and…

Paige screamed as she realized the whole ear of corn was made up of teeth, the ear began spraying her with blood, the corn silk strands changing from skin and hair into maggots that began crawling all over her. 

She dropped the corn, her face and clothes covered in blood when she heard a twig snap behind her. She turned and bearly avoided a swipe by Freddy's claws. She screamed again and backed away. Freddy chuckled, "Run, run as fast as you can…"

Which was exactly what she did, turning on her heels to flee. She weaved her way through row after row of corn, breathing hard and trying to contain her screams of terror. Now and then she heard a thrashing behind her - an almost whooshing sound. Oh god, he was coming after her!

She gasped, wiping the blood off her face as she blindly sprinted. She knew this field better than anyone, better than him - she would get out and be safe. She twisted and turned, trying to loose him in the maze of rows when she tripped. She cried out as she landed face first in the dirt.

Her ankle throbbed and she was about to check to see what she had fallen over when she heard Freddy's voice, "Hey Paige,"

She looked about wildly, he had sounded so close, almost on top of her but he was no where to be seen, his snarl continued, "Do you know what they call a group of crows?"

Paige, gasping and crying, began shaking her head vehemently, desperate for her life, begging as she tried to rise, her attempts feeble and weak as she dug at the earth. She turned over on her back and tried to grab the corn for support. 

"They call it a murder."

A hollow caw rang out and Paige froze, her veins filling with ice water as several angry caws filled the air. A roar of flapping wings and caws erupted as massive swarm of the black-as-death birds appeared. 

They dived onto Paige's body - tiny, sharp beaks jabbing into her skin. Another tortured scream escaped her as they began picking away at her body, stabbing her over and over again with their little mouths.

She wailed, batting at them, fingers trying to rip their little winged bodies off when suddenly they stopped, resting on her as if stunned. She gasped as they perched silently on top of her, beaks coated in her blood, beady eyes no longer looking at her but somewhere else.

They began to fly away as if on fire, and she could almost swear they had been frightened away. But that was impossible. She moaned and rolled over yet again, this time on to her stomach only to have her eye level meet with someone's white patent leather shoes. 

She looked up to see a little girl standing before her. The girl was very young and had long dark straight hair that covered her face almost entirely - only the top of her forehead and a bit of her chin visible. Paige hadn't realized how dark it had become in her dream - the sun gone long ago and the sky was midnight black. 

The girl did not speak, did not offer Paige a hand up but instead stood there - arms bowed forward, hands hanging limply. And she didn't know why but in some ways the little girl almost terrified her more than Freddy did. She shook her head as she looked at her, knowing she was being crazy. The girl needed help too - needed to get away or Freddy would get her too. And she was so young, so alone.

Paige was about to get to her feet when the girl's hair parted, revealing her face. An ear splitting screech left Paige's throat at the sight before her - the girl's face was hellish. 

Paige felt as if her skin was on fire and she realized it was turning greenish gray - molting - falling apart as the girl's vicious eyes continued to bore into hers - that angry scowl on her face filled with such a forceful evil.

But then suddenly a hand wrapped around Paige's foot, she turned, startled to see a clawed hand had taken a grip of her ankle. She cried out again as the hand began to drag her at lightening quick speed. The rows became blurs as Paige was dragged through the field.

Her body violently smacked into any stalk in her path, the pain unimaginable as bone and flesh was met with resistant plants. Paige struggled but to no avail and her eyes fell behind her to see the little girl was chasing her, face still visible with intent, fingers clawed and reaching for her hungrily.

Paige disappeared into the darkness just past the field. Her screams grew more high pitched and wild as several concise snapping sounds broke the air.

The stalks were splashed with red blood.

__


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!! God, I love this holiday! Here's your next trick and boy oh boy is it a good one! 

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 22

Lori Campbell blushed as she reached her dorm room, her date Tyler Flynn still laughing softly at the recent joke they shared. Her head tipped to one side, "Well, this is my room."

"Oh," Tyler looked at the door and sighed, "Guess the night is over then."

"Yeah."

"I had a really great time."

Lori felt the smile that had been on her face all night expanding; "I did too."

"Hmm," Tyler murmured and reached a hand out, brushing some hair behind her ear. Lori's blush deepened and she shivered, "I should…"

"Go out with me again."

"What?" Lori whispered.

"Next week. Saturday, maybe? There's a football game on campus…"

"Tyler-"

"Look, Lori, I know about you and Will Rollins."

Her eyes widened, "Who-"

"Paige told me."

Lori snorted and Tyler raised both his hands in defense, "She was just trying to be a friend, Lori."

"She talks too much," she muttered, "It's none of her business really…"

"She's looking out for you, that's all. And it's not like she told me everything - she just mentioned how you guys were pretty strong and then things ended rocky and while I don't claim to understand I want you to know I'm here for you. I'm willing to take things slow, Lori, but…I like you. A lot. And I really want to see you again."

Her blue eyes met with his own matching pair and she sighed, reaching out her own tentative hand to brush at a few of his flaxen strands, "I like you too, Tyler."

Tyler beamed, relief washing over him, "So how about next week. Please? I promise it'll be fun."

A giggle left her, "If it is anything like tonight, I know it will be."

"Is that a 'yes' then?"

She rocked from side to side, her hand dropping, "Yes, it's a date."

"Awesome," Tyler said and stuck his hands in his pockets, "I'll call you."

He turned to leave and Lori bit her lower lip, weigh her options, finally she spoke up, "Tyler?"

He faced her again and she rushed up to him, kissing him fully on the mouth very quickly. When she drew back her lush lips had left red lipstick marks on his mouth but he didn't seem to care, a huge grin on his face. She gave a playful little 'good-bye' and entered her dorm, leaving him to walk out of the building feeling as if he was the luckiest guy on earth.

  
------------------------------

Lori entered the darkened dorm and fell back against the closed door, a dreamy sound leaving her. She probably shouldn't have kissed Tyler but she had found herself unable to fight off the impulse - he was such a great guy and they had had an amazing evening.

She knew Paige would be pleased to hear this. She wondered where her roommate was as she tossed her purse to one side. Maybe Paige was at Foxglove still? How long was Disher's band playing?

Was Will there? And with that girl as his date? This thought made her scowl as she remembered the creepy little tramp with her freakish drawings. How could Will be interested in someone like that? It certainly did lower her opinion of him.

She realized she had indeed made a good decision when it came to Will as she reached for the light switch. She flicked it on, light flooding the room and screamed as she came face to face with the back of Paige's head.

Paige's head was screwed on backwards - her front forward but her head on all wrong and each of her limbs were broken - flapping obscenely, uselessly. Gurgling sounds left her as there was another loud snap and Paige head returned to its' forward position - but so rapidly it was like unscrewing a cork from a bottle - her head popping off.

Lori's deafening screams continued unbroken as Paige's limbs continue to wiggle in its death throes then collapsed to the carpet - dead. Lori could see slash marks along Paige's skin and recognized them immediately. Terrified, she darted to her bed and reached under her pillows, grabbing the bottle of Hypnocil.

She dived into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, sobbing fervently. Her voice babbling aloud, unrecognizable to her own ears, "Oh god, Freddy…it's Freddy, it's Freddy…he's back…oh god…he's gonna kill me…"

Her whimpering and whining continued as she wrenched the bottle open, desperate to find a pill, to have protection. She got it open to find only one pill left. Another sob left her, if only there was more! But one would do, she dug her finger inside, the pill dashing around in the bottom of the bottle, not eager to be caught.

She continued to struggle, not noticing that behind her the toilet had begun flooding, the lid rising slightly under the dark, dirty water that began to flow out. It leaked onto the floor, creating a huge, dismal puddle. Lori's sobs grew more vehement as her thoughts drifted over Paige, her finger leaving the bottle to instead turn it over, tap the open mouth into her hand.

The pill fell into her palm and she turned to go to the sink when the slippery mess beneath her feet caused her to slide backward. She cried out sharply as she fell, the back of her head striking the edge of the sink roughly.

She lay on the tile floor in the puddle, blood from her head staining the white polished sink and tiles. She moaned, blinking and opened her eyes. She slowly sat up, water soaking through her clothes. She touched the back of her head and hissed feeling the cut there stinging painfully.

She drew her fingers back and saw they were coated in crimson. She grimaced and gingerly rose to her feet. She looked around the bathroom, wondering where her pills had gone when her gaze landed on the mirror. She saw herself in its reflection, then screamed when she saw a little girl stood behind her, long dark hair covering her face, skin a ghastly tone covered in veins.

Lori turned but saw no one standing behind her in the bathroom. Shaking, her eyes warily returned to the mirror's glossy surface. The little girl began to stagger forward, getting closer and closer to Lori who started gasping, sobbing, "Please…please…leave me alone…stay away! STAY AWAY!"

The little girl's hand shot out through the mirror and reached for Lori as she grabbed the closet thing - a hairdryer- and smashed it into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces. 

Insane cackles of triumph filled the room, bursting from Lori's lips as she clutched the dryer closer to herself, her whole body shivering all over uncontrollably. She was safe - she was fine, she had defeated whatever evil was coming after her. All she needed now was that pill. 

She let the dryer fall from her fingers and clatter to the floor as she looked around from side to side, trying to find the bottle. Broken mirror fragments covered the floor like sparkling stars and she tried to avoid slivers as she lowered herself on to her hands and knees, quaking fingers reaching out tentatively, "Come on, come on…where the fuck is my pill?!"

Her eyes frantically tossed about in vain for some sign when she realized the room had grown awfully hot and someone was standing over her, their breath reaching down to brush the back of her neck. Lori looked down and could see she was sitting in a shadow that tilted upwards on to the wall forming the shape of a lean individual wearing a broad rimmed hat - a fedora.

Tears filled her eyes, one escaping as a pained whisper left her, "Oh no."

She rose slowly, still trembling, and turned to see Freddy.

He held up the plastic bottle, "Looking for this?"

Lori began to shake her head, terrified as Freddy spoke, "Miss me, Lori?"

She didn't answer, instead the corner of her eye caught on a large, shiny chunk of glass. It was just out of reach, if she moved quickly enough…

Freddy moved the bottle smoothly in his finger tips, one razor reaching up to peruse the lines written on the back of the label, "Hmm, take two to three pills every evening before bed to ensure a dreamless sleep, do not exceed 6 tablets in 24 hours, the smallest effective dose should be used…"

Lori's eyes kept darting to the chunk of glass as he clucked his tongue, his head tilting to one side as he shook the bottle in her direction, "Didn't anyone tell you drugs are bad for you, princess? And using these to hide from me…now is that very nice?"

"GO TO HELL!" Lori hissed and moved swiftly, grabbing the shard of glass and aiming for his jugular but Freddy was too fast, his own hand grabbing her wrist sharply and twisting it, making the glass fall to the floor. 

She gasped and raised her other arm, prepared to bat at him and free herself but he lunged forward, smacking her into the wall behind them, effectively pinning her one free arm beneath her. A squeal escaped her as she struggle against him, bucking her body but to no avail, his strength overpowering.

"You sent me there all ready, remember?" he scowled in his gritty tone, bringing his face close to hers, stinking breath washing over her, "Now it's payback time!"

Lori whimpered, still trying to fight back, more tears spilling free as Freddy brought the bottle close to her face, "You want these pills?"

He shook them mockingly in her face and she could see that while the bottle had been empty earlier it was now overflowing with the blue pills, some falling out to scatter across the tiles, her mouth fell into an open 'O' of shock.

He gave her the most evil glare, "Be my guest!"

With that he jammed the bottle into her mouth, the pills filling her, falling down her throat. She struggled but he just squeezed her tighter, pushing the bottle further in. The pills kept pouring out in an unending flow. Horrible gurgled sounds of choking left her as he continued to taunt her, "Take your medicine like a good girl…"

Lori felt as if her throat was bulging at the sides, compacted with too many pills. Oxygen seemed to be in short supply and suddenly he released her, allowing her to let her hands go to her throat, wrapping around them as her face began to change color.

"Oh dear, are you choking?" he asked with mock concern, "They go down the wrong pipe? Here, let me help."

The last word was said with extreme relish as he drew back his gloved hand and slashed out, razors meeting with her neck. Deep gashes exploded on her flesh upon impact, blood and pills splattering all over him as well as the floor as her throat was torn open.

Her lifeless body collapsed to the tile, and he looked down at her fondly, "Sweet dreams."


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! Here's your treat! This is for Nephthys Jeckel, who said the world needs more Freddy Porn - bwhahaha!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: SENSUALITY (Much more this time and oh so naughty…I love it XD!)

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 23

Lori Campbell's dead body convulsed on the floor a few times, her mouth popping open and closed like a fish out of water as her eyes rolled up into the back of her skull. Her fingers twitched in the puddle of blood and pills beneath her as Freddy stood over her, triumphant. 

A soft whisper of sound echoed before him and he looked up to see Samara standing there. She was in her teenager form - covered from head to toe in blood. Crimson dripped from the tips of her hair, rolled down her pale flawless skin, white dress and shoes stained.

He was panting, completely overtaken by the euphoria of having killed so many in such a short period of time. It had been much, much too long since real blood, the blood of his children, had decorated his razors, since screams of fright had filled his ears. This was as close to delirium as he had ever been and he felt _fan-fucking-tastic_.

It was impossible to even give words to the moment. Him, the man of a thousand quips and wise ass remarks couldn't think of one crack to make at this, his moment of glory. Instead he stood there, lost in the sea of souls, of kills that he had just committed and his glazed eyes focused intently on the girl before him.

Though he would never admit it, she was responsible for all of this. Without her, it would not have been possible. And at this moment, standing there, coated in blood from _his_ kills, her perfect white image tainted, she was the most erotic thing he could remember having ever laid his eyes on.

He had never been in this position before - having some one around after he'd committed murder. At least, not someone that he didn't plan to kill right after. Never had a person around to…to celebrate his success with. He knew he should have had some opinion about it, some sort of feeling - anger, the want to gloat…something.

But instead he merely looked at her and felt his breathing go ragged, eyes locked on the blood painting her ghostly cheeks. He staggered over to her, body oddly heavy, hungry and wanting.

Her mouth opened to speak but quickly snapped shut as he drew closer. She didn't know why she had appeared to him like this. Maybe it was because she had wanted to show him what had happened at the club - how she had gotten covered with blood because of him, how good she felt about that.

Her previous kills had involved basically no blood whatsoever. There had been dark, dirty water, screaming, horror - that was about it. Never the kind of bloodbath that he had just induced this evening. Watching blood explode from people's bodies - getting covered in it. She found the experience far more delightful than she would have thought possible.

It was messy but excitingly so. And to feel such emotions when before to have none…sure, she did not show them but they were there deep inside stirring about. She had felt something back at the club. She had wanted to smile as those people had died - when she had seen Disher hanging there. That urge had grown even stronger at Paige's death and now Lori's, it was all almost too much for her.

And apparently it was for him too as he stood so close to her. Her freezing body easily felt the heat radiating off of him as her eyes met his. The look there was something she had never seen directed at her before and his face was so deathly serious. 

He was close to her, towering over her, body inches away, causing the tingling inside her to grow more steady, turning it into a pulse that felt so…

She swallowed, _actually_ swallowed, as his scent hit her. He smelled of burnt decay, of death and it enraptured her senses like nothing she had ever experience before in her entire existence. 

He was upon her in an instant, his hands taking hold of her arms, fingers moving upward to knot tightly in her hair, tugging sharply enough to bend her head back, exposing her face and throat for his view.

His grip was rough as he lowered his head and she didn't know what to expect. His tongue came out, wiping leisurely along her cheek. 

He eagerly lapped up the blood on her, bathing her face as she stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do, how to react. He had done this before - back when they had first met but this time it seemed so different, more charged.

She chose to relax, allowing him to continue, too curious to see what would happen next to make him stop. She wanted to know more, had to know more…this was all about new experiences, about learning. And there was also the fact that she didn't _want_ to move, what he was doing felt…it _felt_…

She suddenly realized not only that she had not been breathing but now that she was breathing again it was coming out wrong, off track. The organ in her chest that was once Becca's heart seemed to be moving at an irregular rate.

The variety of sensations she was feeling caused the pulsing deep inside her to grow worse, she didn't know what was happening to her body but it wasn't that bad…in fact it was quite good. 

Each touch caused a ripple to move through her - his fingers in her hair scratching her scalp, his mouth along her skin, the slick wet glide of his wicked tongue…she had never felt so…warm.

Her hands found his shoulders and her fingers dug down hard in response to his painful hold on her hair. Nails like tiny teeth, biting deeply as they sunk into his flesh. 

He did not seem to notice or care, instead continuing to work over her face, blood disappearing as his searching mouth seemed to move further, growing ever nearer to her own lips. 

Samara found herself twisting in his embrace, trying to bring herself closer, confusion and desire overwhelming her. A sound came from somewhere, from one of them as his tongue finally drifted over her lips, brushing along the seam. 

Her mouth fell open and she felt her breath mingle with his, wondering what would happen from here when her belly wrenched deep inside. She gasped and drew away, suddenly disappearing in a flash. Freddy stood in place, startled.

Jesus Christ! Someone had woken her up!

Freddy roared, furious at being denied yet again.

------------------------------

"Sam?" Will queried softly, his hand on her shoulder. Samara jumped, eyes blinking rapidly as she turned to face the boy before her, the look she shot him priceless fury. She shoved him away and let out a huff, shaking herself.

Will turned red, embarrassed, "I - I'm sorry, it's just…we're here, at the hotel, and you…you were moaning in your sleep. I - I thought you might be in trouble. Bad dream?"

The way he asked the last question showed his insecurity and she sighed, trying to forget her anger. It wasn't like the idiot knew where she had truly been and perhaps things were better this way…she couldn't believe what had just happened mere minutes ago. 

Her and Freddy…god, the heart in her chest was still rapidly beating and her hand went to her cheek. She could still feel his mouth there. What would have happened if Will hadn't woke her up? That question would plague her for the rest of eternity.

Her gaze returned to the boy in question who still sat before her, worry written all over him. She sighed and decided she'd better speak or she'd look strange, "It wasn't a bad dream…it was actually good…for once."

Will nodded, his hand running through his hair, "Yeah, I got that…"

Samara caught the action and frowned. She didn't know why but she liked watching the boy play with his hair, she had caught him doing it a lot and each time the behavior intrigued her in ways she couldn't quite grasp. 

Why was she doddering around with this human so much anyway? What was there to gain? She rationalized that she was out to spread the fear, to increase the body count. But was that all there was to it? Why did she choose to spend so much time with him and him alone? Why she chose to stick around this particular individual perplexed her. Why waste so much time solely with him? Follow him around?

It made her recall the club and his compliments. Then her thoughts returned to Freddy and what had almost happened between them. Then back to Will again. Especially now, considering the look in his eyes…

He looked at her in a way no one ever had before. Freddy did the same, but in a different way. The frown on her face deepened. Being in this body truly was throwing her equilibrium off. Her mind was constantly plagued with wonder and doubt. She had to free herself back into spirit form. And soon. 


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: First, thanks to new reviewers crimsond tears and Nick. Also, thanks to all for enjoying the Freddy/Samara moment…I was worried I'd be pegged with tomatoes, even though Robert Englund himself said if they ever did another Freddy movie it should be 'Bride of Chucky'-esque. Also, I too am happy Lori is dead…I _really_ did not like her.

George Smillie - Dammit George, you're brilliant! Why didn't I think of that line! I might have to do a re-write. As for dying, I'll see what I can do for you…

Fat Caiman - Been a while since you've reviewed, nice to see you again!

Danielle L.B - I love your reviews! Don't you dare stop - also, I'd like to plug Dani's fic 'Nightmare Switch' it's friggin' hysterical! It keeps me in stitches!

Impatient mental patient - Comparing this story to 'Playing with Fire' is truly one of the highest compliments I've received - thank you very much, I'm flattered!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 24

Will only had to knock once before he and Samara were ushered into Alice's hotel room. Everyone sat around with looks of trepidation upon their faces, wondering where to begin. 

Finally Alice cleared her throat, "Well, I guess I'd better start since this is my room, introductions first, stories about…about him second. Um. My name is Alice Johnson and this is my son, Jacob."

Jacob held up two fingers, "Yo."

Alice sighed and gave a curt nod in Maggie's direction, "Maggie Borroughs and this is my colleague, Doctor-"

"Doc is good enough," he replied shortly as his eyes turned towards Will, causing everyone else to follow suit.

Will ducked his head, "Will Rollins and this is Sam."

Silence reigned again until Jacob offered to order pizza. His mother shot him a frown that suggested that this offer was insensitive given the circumstances but then she chose to let it slide - they needed a distraction and food was better than nothing.

Soon enough the group of six found themselves sitting around a table eating and sharing their stories. Samara took this opportunity to study the enemy as closely as possible. She kept her head bowed and her mouth shut, but she listened intently to every word spoken and her eyes drifted up occasionally to look at each person.

Alice started first, retelling the same story she had told Jacob not long ago - about how Kristen's death had caused Freddy to switch his interest over to her and how he had harassed her not just once, but twice, killing numerous friends as well as her brother and true love.

In Samara's eyes, this woman was going to be easily expendable. Her eyes were too big, she was much too thin, and her close attachment to her son could easily lead to her downfall. Every time she talked about Jacob or looked at him her love was evident, this could be used against her. 

But she also knew to be mindful, while Alice appeared simplistic enough, she had defeated Freddy twice. There had to be something to her, some steely resolve that allowed her to survive. But then, Lori had decapitated Freddy and look how quickly she had been dispatched.

The memory of the busty blonde's throat being torn out threatened to cause a chuckle to escape but she held it in check, eyes landing on Maggie as she began the especially hard burden of her connection to Freddy. 

It was hard to believe this woman could actually be Freddy's offspring. His true child. She had such unappealing features…vacant face, big nose, dull eyes…entirely stale and for some reason the tone of her voice drilled into Samara's brain, causing her to grit her teeth in irritation.

Or maybe it was the rising surge of jealousy inside her that was clouding her judgement. This realization nearly floored her. She had not felt envy since she had been alive…since her parents had flaunted all their attention on their damn horses. Emotions that should have been given to their child was instead given to a pack of big, dumb animals!

All she could think of was how Maggie was attached to Freddy in a way she never could be. She thought of the way he had first spoken of his daughter…the hesitation there. Would he spare her? Attempt to convert her again? Replace Samara with her? These thoughts caused her undead blood to boil. She was supposed to be Freddy's child - her and her alone! No one else! She was the special one…not this…this ungrateful brat!

Her anger would have continued undaunted if she didn't catch herself and her own thoughts. What was she thinking? True, she wanted to be the only one in Freddy's life but she certainly didn't want to be _owned_ by him. She was an objected to be owned. Her parents had learned that the hard way…

But these conflicting thoughts had to be saved for another time. She knew now was not the moment for self-introspection and she look to Maggie as she reached the climax of her tale.

"…John Doe, he discovered something…Freddy had been married."

"WHAT?!" Alice roared, jumping to her feet, "That - that butcher was….he had a wife?!"

"Worse," Maggie swallowed, "He had a child."

"That monster?!" Alice gaped, mortified.

Maggie nodded, eyes sad, "Yes…John thought it was him but he was wrong. He paid for it…with his life. That's when we found out the truth…Freddy had indeed had a child, but it wasn't a boy…it was a little girl. A daughter," she breathed in, "and that daughter, is me. I am Katherine Krueger."

Alice stared at Maggie, a hand going to her mouth. Jacob's eyes were as wide as saucers as he pointed a finger in her direction, "Y - you…you - you're…"

"Freddy's last living descendent." She whispered. Doc rested a strengthening hand on her shoulder, taking over for her, "It wasn't an easy revelation to handle. This discovery rocked Maggie's life…exposed what had truly happened to her birth mother…"

Alice hardly dared to breathe, "What…"

"Loretta Krueger was killed," Maggie gasped, tears close to consuming her, "Murdered at the hands of her husband, my father, Fred…god, I was in his basement, I saw his gloves and I knew…kids in my class, some I'd even had as friends…he butchered them, tortured them with his fingertips, played with them like toys…"

She ran a hand through her hair and wiped at the single tear that had managed to escape, the next half leaving her in a sob, "He told me never to tell, I promised I wouldn't…I promised…"

She broke off and Doc took over again, "She went to the authorities. They took her away, put her in foster care; Krueger never got over it. In some ways it made him even more twisted. He blamed society as a whole for taking away his daughter, _stealing_ her. It was like a final straw, snapping his sanity for good…if there ever had been any."

Jacob frowned, "Why do you even think-" 

Doc waved a hand, catching the question before it was even spoken, "When he married Loretta, had Katherine…he tried for a short length of time to commit no crimes. It was the final, desperate act of a man who somehow, somewhere must have had a tiny flicker of good inside of him…"

Alice snorted, crossing her arms, "I find that hard to believe."

Jacob offered a weak smile, "Come on Mom, maybe it was there…you said so yourself, his mother was a Nun. Maybe it was a bit of her inside him. Or some of Loretta," Jacob touched Maggie's shoulder gently, "or maybe it was you, Maggie."

She looked up at him through blurry eyes. She had bearly known this kid over a day and yet what he had just said meant so much to her. She raised a hand up to cover his, giving it a warm squeeze, "Thank you."

Taking a deep breath she finished the story, explaining how they had defeated Freddy and ended up in Europe. Samara was still pondering the possibilities of Doc's proposed 'expired good side' of Freddy as Will started in on his separate tale. She heard Lori's name now and then and couldn't avoid a smirk, thankful that her long hair once again obscured her face when she was unexpectedly nudged.

"Hmm?"

"Sam…do you want to share your…experiences with him?" Will questioned softly.

She raised her head, looking around the room and blinking. Her eyes drifted over all of them, starting with Alice then moving over to Jacob, Maggie, Doc and finally resting on Will. All of these people were going to die. They just didn't know it yet, though as she looked at Will a flutter of confusion arose that she did not expect to feel.

It grew stronger as he queried again, "Sam? Do you want to talk about it or…or are you not ready? I don't want to force you, you can take your time…"

The look in his eyes, the concern there…it was so strange. To have someone care. Could he be acting? Rachel had appeared to care but in the end had been proven false, only really concerned with her own agenda. 

Could Will actually give a damn about her? How she felt? Her needs? The confusion was growing worse as she lowered her head once more, whispering, "I - I don't think so."

"Hey," he reached out and took her chin, tilting her head up so their eyes met again, "That's okay,"

What was he doing? Why did she feel so…

Samara drew herself from his touch, startled. This was almost as bad as what Freddy had done to her on the dreamscape after he had killed Lori. It was like these men entranced her. What was happening to her?

Jacob spoke, "Okay, so we've all dealt with Freddy. We all know he exists, Mom and I know he's back because we received this weird video tape-"

"You got that tape too?" Maggie gasped, "The one with the images-"

"And the little girl?" Alice interjected.

They turned to Will who merely let out a breath, "Yeah…"

Everyone let this sink in as Jacob continued, "So we all got this video and we were all led here. It can't be a coincidence, he brought us all together for a reason-"

"To finish us off." Doc said simply.

"End it right at Springwood where it began," Alice sighed, "But what I want to know is where he got the power to make and send out the tape in the first place and the little girl…who was she? Is she a real captive and if so can we save her or is it too late? And how can we save her, I mean, I don't know about you all but I haven't slept since this began."

"Doc and I haven't gotten a wink," Maggie confirmed.

"Too scared for dreams," Will mumbled.

"There's a way," Doc supplied logically,"We'll find it. He's been defeated before, he can be again. And I don't think it's too late for the girl. He wants us to go into the dreams. It's bait to lure us in."

"So she could be fake."

"That's not the point," Doc insisted steely, "The point is to defeat this son of a bitch once and for all, and let's face it, the only way to do that is to dream. Draw him out…"

"He can be drawn out into the real world, we've done it before," Maggie confirmed.  


"Us too, like I said when I told you about my and Lori's experience with him."

"Back to the tape though, how'd he get the power to send it out?" 

"He's fueled by fear and it's obvious the teens around here are scared of him, look what happened at the club."

Alice shook her head, frustrated, "But how did _that_ begin?" 

"Sam…" Will whispered, turning his eyes to her, "Your drawings…"

Samara frowned as all attention turned her way, "What about them?"

"You scared everyone with them!" Will whispered, "You started…"

Suddenly there was a knock at the hotel room door and everyone jumped. Maggie laughed unsteadily, "That's probably a friend of mine. I called her on my cell phone on the way here. She was helping Doc and I back at the club and I asked her to get an estimate on the…total damage caused."

Alice nodded and went to open the door. Behind it stood Angela, she still wore her club attire but she now had a black purse slung over her shoulder, her normal cheery features very serious, "Hello everyone."

Will perked up in his seat, "Angela?"

She looked in his direction, "Will? What are you-" her eyes then landed on Samara, "Sam!"

Samara's eyes went wide. What was the counselor doing here?!

Angela walked over and quickly dropped to her knees, gathering the girl in a hug, "It's so good to see you!"

If it was possible, Samara's eyes got wider. The woman was glad…to see her? No one had ever been glad to see her. Not when she was alive and certainly not after she was dead. But then she had noted that in Becca's body she didn't seem to transmit images like she had when she had been alive and in her own body. Still, it was strange to feel…wanted.

Angela drew away, "I wasn't sure if you came to the club tonight and after what happened I was so worried…"

"Angela, what did you find out?" Maggie asked, voice tight with worry.

The young woman rose back to her feet, hand tight on the handle of her purse, "It's - it's not good. Lots of kids are dead and others are in critical condition and…Jesus, Maggie, I need to know what's going on. You were vague on the phone and I know you're being here when this all is happening is no coincidence so - out with it. What's happening?"

Maggie sighed, "You wouldn't believe me if-"

"It has to do with _him_, doesn't it?" Angela asked, her whole demeanor changing. Her eyes were narrowed and while it was obvious she had put steel into her spine the hand on the straps of her purse trembled slightly, giving away her apprehension.

"H - Him?" Maggie breathed.

"The Dream Demon," Angela hissed, "Krueger."

Alice looked at her in amazement, "How did you-"

Angela reached into her purse and drew out a bundle, tossing it on the table before them. Jacob edged forward and unwrapped it; everyone leaned forward to see what he uncovered. What they saw inside caused them all to gasp and lean back, revealing a hideous razor clawed leather glove. _Freddy's glove._

All eyes directed Angela's way as she heaved out a heavy sigh, "Let me tell you a little story…"

.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: From what I can tell, this story is going to end ten Chapters from now with 35. I'm one of those folks who basically writes a good chunk of stuff, then goes back and edits again and again and again and again and…you get the picture. 

I post stuff once I feel it's up to snuff so that involves a lot of back tracking and what not - the system has worked so far (even though for the most part I still manage to find mistakes later after I post…grumble, grumble) 

Once again I hope no one minds how monstrous this thing has become - I sure have had fun writing it though and hopefully it's kept you entertained on a day to day basis, feel bad for new readers starting at Chapter One though…they've got a mountain to climb - LOL.

Now for my commentos and story recs/pimping!

HowlynMad - New reviewer! Thanks for input, bud! Hope you enjoy the rest!

Agent A.T. - Big showdowns in the future, as for side switching, you will see, all I can say is, emotions/feelings are one confusing bitch. o_O

Ayezur Draca - Thanks for enjoying my slices of Soul Pizza and don't you worry your pretty head! Things are going to get worse before they get better but I'll tell you this much - I have a twisted mind when it comes to happy endings…in other words, I can tell you now that Samara is in no way shape or form ever going to join the pep squad if you catch my drift…

Speaking of Ayezur Draca, she's got a fic entitled 'Event Horizon' - read it! She put so much thought into her work it's like…man, just read this, pretty please!

And villianbabe is yet again kicking ass with 'Hybrid War: Underworld 2' which has so many twists and turns you won't be able to stop reading…I should know, I almost missed US History for it!

Speaking of, if ya'll have any stories you want me to read, by all means tell me - I love to read fanfic!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

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Chapter 25

Elm Street - 1985

Angela Walsh crept quietly to the edge of the stairs in her home at 1428 Elm Street. She clung to the front of her white cotton nightgown, slowly lowering herself into a seating position as her eyes locked on the front door, just waiting - always waiting. 

Her older brother Jesse had left hours ago and she couldn't help but worry about him. Hopefully his girlfriend Lisa was still looking out for him. If Jesse found out Angela been spying on him for all these weeks he would be furious - but how could she not? 

She loved her brother more than anyone. She was not nearly as close to her mother or father as she was to him. He may have been gangly and unpopular but he was always special to her. Sure, she gave him a hard time…but that was her job, she was his little sister.

But all that she had heard the past few days…it was crazy, but how could she not believe? She had heard Lisa and Jesse talking about some diary they had found. It had belonged to the girl who had lived in this house before them. From its pages they had found out about some boogieman, a child killer…Freddy Krueger.

There was something about the name - it just made her shudder. Sometimes she found herself checking her closet or under her bed, worried he'd pop out…and yet she'd never even seen him. She had only managed to catch a few descriptions from her brother and that was only through eavesdropping so she never picked out much.

She did - however - get the gist of who he was and what was going on. This….this monster, was trying to take her brother from her. Trying to possess him. And even though she was very young she vowed she would do whatever was in her power to make sure that did not happen.

The front door opened and Angela tried to stifle her bated breath, making sure she was well hid in the shadows. Jesse entered, followed by Lisa. Jesse was filthy - covered from head to foot in soot and grime. One of his hands seemed misshapen and she couldn't tell why. Lisa, while a little cleaner, still looked about as bad as Jesse.

The two teens looked at each other with love and overwhelming relief in their eyes, Lisa spoke softly, "It's over, Jesse, it's over…"

"You said that earlier," Jesse said with a weak smile.

"I know, I just can't believe it…I'm so happy…"

She started crying and Jesse shushed her, pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head when she sniffled and pulled away, pointing to his strange hand, "What's that?"

Jesse looked down, "Hmm? Oh, that was some of the shell I couldn't seem to crack off back when we were at the Plant. I was just so eager to get home…"

"Let's get it off," Lisa whispered and began clawing at the mass on his hand. It broke away and she let out a choked cry. Jesse looked down, wide-eyed to see he was still wearing Freddy's glove. He made a face of pure disgust and peeled it off, thrusting the front door open to toss it outside.

Lisa looked at him, "Jesse…"

"It's nothing," He assured her, "It was just…some mistake."

"Do you think we should-"

"No, leave it outside…I'll…I'll deal with it tomorrow."

"What if someone-"

"I'll get it early. Promise," He said, kissing her head again, "Besides, I think I heard the bushes rustle - it probably landed in there. It's hidden well enough."

"I - I guess…" she whispered.

"You should go home, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay…maybe we can do something special later on."

"Oh yeah? What kind of special?"

Lisa drew him close, a mischievous look on her face and Angela felt her skin grow hot, cheeks turning pink as the two teens began kissing and fondling one another. She turned away and softly padded back to her room - she didn't want to risk being caught but she was filled with so many bubbling questions.

She waited for what seemed like hours before she left her room again, creeping down the stairs and walking outside. It took a few moments before her eyes adjusted to the dark – dawn wasn't far off but visibility was still poor as she looked about in vain for what her brother had tossed.

Jesse was such an idiot – anyone could easily find the glove he'd cast aside so swiftly. She muddled about, eventually uncovering it in the bushes. Her tiny hands shook as she took hold of the big, bulky glove, wiping the dirt off.

Even without a hand to warm it, the glove felt hot and it certainly looked terrifying. Sharp stainless steel blades lined along each finger, painstakingly fastened with brassed rivets. For the briefest of moments she had the uncontrollable urge to put it on but she quickly squashed it, instead dodging inside.

She didn't want to take it to her bedroom but she didn't have much choice as she couldn't risk hiding it to be found by her mother or father. Once upstairs in her room, she wrapped it in several dirty clothes she had cast about her floor, storing it in her hope chest, making sure the lock was tightly secure. 

As she crawled into bed she kept staring at the chest, thinking about what was inside. Jesse and Lisa had sounded so positive downstairs, and the things they had said…could she dare to believe?

Had Freddy been defeated?

This was the problem with listening in on other people's conversations - you could never get the whole story. At least you couldn't without revealing yourself. Maybe it was time she did just that. Angela worried her bottom lip between her teeth - did she really want Jesse to know she knew? Did she want to face his wrath?

No, she didn't want to make him angry but she did want him to know the truth - more so because _she_ wanted to know the truth. She wanted to hear the whole account of Freddy and what had been going on. The only way to do that was to lay her cards on the table.

Mind made up she closed her eyes, turning herself away from the chest and what lay inside. In her mind she rehearsed what she would say tomorrow, trying to prepare herself to talk with her brother.

------------------------------

****

Chicago – 1987

"Mrs. Walsh?" Doctor Sanbourne queried softly.

An older woman looking through a two-way mirror turned. Her face was wrinkled and strained from too much stress, "Yes, Doctor…"

"I'm sure you just saw-"

"Yes, I saw you talking with my daughter…she seems to be a little better today."

"Not exactly, Mrs. Walsh, how long has Angela been involved with," he paused, licking his lips, unsure of how to continue, "how long has she been studied?"

Mr. Walsh, who sat on a couch near by, snorted, "Ever since they found 'em dead."

"Ken!" Mrs. Walsh gasped.

Mr. Walsh continued undaunted, "We woke up one morning to find our son dead. His girlfriend next door too. Both of 'em dead in their beds! Doctors couldn't figure it out then, can't figure it out now…his heart just…stopped beating," he swallowed, resolve melting as his hands shook. 

There was a tight silence as Mrs. Walsh drew closer to Sanbourne, whispering, "It was the strangest thing…they said - they said Jesse's insides looked like he'd been in some sort of bus accident…"

Passion overtook Mr. Walsh again as he spoke loudly, "We've mourned our son, Doctor Sansbourne, but we know the truth…Jesse, god bless him, we loved him but…he must have done something to cause it, like drugs or…god knows what else he and his girl were messed up in…you know kids today…"

"We were so worried Angela would end up the same," Mrs. Walsh whispered, "She's never gotten over Jesse's death. We started with grief counselors and it moved up from there. We moved her out of Springwood, brought her here and since then it's been psychologists after psychologist…we just want to know our baby girl is going to be all right, that she won't be like her brother. I couldn't bear losing two, I just couldn't…"

"Shh, it won't come to that, I promise," Doctor Sanbourne assured, "Now you both are against institutionalizing, correct?"

"We want our daughter at home, in our care." Mr. Walsh affirmed, rising to his feet, "She may be messed up but she ain't that messed up yet!"

Mrs. Walsh shot her husband a look before continuing, "We still want to take her in for sessions with you and other therapists, of course."

"Understandable," Doctor Sanbourne agreed, "However, given her current mental state and the interview we just had I'm prescribing some meds that I think will settle her moods - keep her more…organized. There are explicit directions - they are to be taken on certain days at certain times…"

"I think we can handle it, Doctor, can we see our daughter now?"

"Of course," Doctor Sanbourne left and in a few minutes returned with a very much-changed Angela. 

Her skin was pale, face tight and withdrawn. Her eyes were narrowed at everyone as she walked towards her parents. Mrs. Walsh held open her arms, "Hello, sweetheart. How about a hug?"

Angela looked at her open arms for a moment, then quietly turned and walked away.

------------------------------

****

New York - 1996

"Come on, Angie! You study waaaaaaaay too much!" a classmate laughed, tossing a football in her direction.

Angela sat underneath a tree on campus, her pencil working diligently in her notebook as she looked through the mountains of paperwork surrounding her. She gave a sigh and raised her head, adjusting her glasses, "This may seem like child's play to you, Jeff, but some of us want to pass…"

Jeff stuck his tongue out, "Like that's any fun! Come on, girl, you need to get out there…have some fun…"

"I need to study," Angela insisted, eyes returning to her work. Jeff lowered himself to the ground and hefted up one of her large books, "What's this? 'Professional Psychology: Research and Practice'…god, this sounds boring…and this thing weighs a ton-"

"It's useful," She snapped, grabbing the book away in a flash and batting at his hands, "And it's mine!"

"You really into this head stuff, huh?"

"Actually no, I hate it."

Jeff's eyebrows drew together, "I don't…"

"It's personal," she bit out.

He raised his hands, "Okay, okay…you win. But I have to say I'd be scared if you were the guidance counselor of my kid."

Angela shot him a look, "How did you-"

"Heard you were going into the Counselor Education Program…going to spend some time with rugrats…Professor Rafkin asked me to organize your folder for the board, speaking of, there were some old pictures of you filed in… I didn't know you were originally a blonde…"

Her hand rose to her dyed brown hair, frowning at the memory of the day she had changed it. She remembered being so angry with her parents – she didn't want to be their child anymore, she wanted to be someone else. Changing her appearance had helped, "It's much nicer like this, anyway."

"Yeah, well…blondes DO have more fun so I guess it makes sense."

"Do you mind? I was studying…" she grumbled, gaze returning to her papers.

Jeff sighed, "I'm just saying you should relax…you'll never get close to anyone with this attitude."

He turned and left, leaving her to ponder his words. She let out a depressed sigh and sat her work aside, unable to continue. He was right. She'd have to loosen up if she ever hoped to get kids to confide in her. She didn't want to be like those doctors she had spent so many hours with…that was her whole purpose of coming here, of getting into this field.

She didn't want anyone to go what she had went through. Her eyes landed on one of the many notebooks she had sprawled about, this one dark black. Her hand reached for it apprehensively and she opened it.

Inside there were several newspaper clippings, all with flashy headlines blaring 'SPRINGWOOD SLASHER STILL AT LARGE', 'KRUEGER SUSPECT', 'KRUEGER RELEASED ON TECHINCALITY', 'CHILD MURDERER BURNED ALIVE'.

She turned a page and more articles appeared, a few written by Nancy Thompson, her face at the top of the page, across from it her obituary. Another page flipped and more obituaries appeared, all speaking of strange, unidentifiable causes of death, each of them from Springwood.

Another flip and there was a page of Jesse and Angela hugging – across from it a shot of his tombstone. One last turn and there was a photograph of the glove as well as a picture of Freddy when he had been alive. Angela's fingers traced the picture of Freddy and she scowled, grabbing a nearby pen. 

She stabbed at the two eyes, making sure her pen made deep gouge marks. She closed the book – tossing it aside. She pulled her knees up to her chest and one tiny tear escaped, "I'll do what I can Jesse, I'll do what I can."


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Hey all, another double update! I'm _so_ close to being finished - I think you all will really enjoy everything that's coming up after these two chapters - a lot of action, twists, turns and dare I say? Romance? Well…my version of romantic, which is pretty twisted - don't worry, I promise no fluffiness!

Pmad - Will Angela died? You'll have to wait and see, though I'll give you a hint, as I said a few chapters ago, I am a Christie Clark fan…

CarryTheZero - Good to see you again, Zero!

Ayezur Draca - Making your day made my day, I am glad to help! :-) 

The Lurker - Wow…you know when you get someone named the Lurker to comment your doing good - LOL. Seriously though, I'm happy to hear you couldn't contain your need to comment, L, it must mean I'm in the right track. I too enjoyed NOES 2, even though I think of it as the 'love' Nightmare…I mean Freddy making goo goo eyes at Lisa? Sure it was actually Jesse mixed in there but still…

::Extra Note:: Just so you all know, I pimp/recommend only the stories I read and actually like, so don't think I'm just kissing ass - perfect example, you all should heck out LoKi Shiver's 'Seven Days' a 'Nightmare Before X-Mas' fic with Lock/Shock shippiness. Nephthys Jeckel's Thirteen Ghost slash fic 'Signs of Hell's Winter' - and - bizarrely enough, the enjoyable 'Lunch Date' by Master Fedora who did, I kid you not, a Tiny Toon Adventures slash story!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 26

Everyone in the hotel room stared at Angela, fixated as she reached the end of her story, "When the chance came to return to Springwood I leapt at it. I had to make sure it stopped and - and I wanted to finish investigating it. I want to know the whole truth behind Freddy, to know all about the bastard who killed my brother and caused me so much pain." 

Her eyes landed on them, "So…that led me here, to you and I can tell by the looks on your faces that I'm not the only one he's tormented over the years. I've kept his glove with me longer than I'd care to admit but somehow I just…feel it's important."

Maggie looked at the glove herself, swallowing. When Angela had spoken of being tempted to try on the glove she knew exactly how she felt for long ago she too had felt the pull – she had even indulged. 

She could remember driving the claws into her father's gut and for some unknown reason it seemed to be calling again. She looked away, uncomfortable.

Alice too seemed hypnotized by the glove before her. Here was the tool that had taken so much from her. That had ended Dan's life. Could it be used against the Dream Demon? But to put it on…to even be tempted…

Jacob reached out to touch it and she slapped his hand, "Don't!"

"What? Can I help it if I'm a little curious."

"I think we all are," Doc replied, "It's tangible temptation, everyone has a dark side that calls to us. Most can avoid it but some…some fall into the abyss. Remember, that thing is pure evil. It is tainted and we should not mess with something of so much significance. My god, Angela, how could you even bear…"

"I don't know," she whispered, "Like I said, it just seems important."

"What's important now is finding out the total damage caused by Freddy's resurgence," Maggie replied, her voice unsteady, "Angela, I asked you to-"

"Yes, get the numbers and I did," she replied, scratching behind her ear as she moved from foot to foot, obviously not wanting to continue, "It was bad, real bad. Um…about fourteen kids died tonight and five more are in critical condition."

"Jesus," Alice murmured, "All from the club?"

She bit her bottom lip, "No…apparently there were some attacks on campus. I went there after the club, the authorities had to fill in the Dean about who was attacked, names and-"

"You have names?" Will breathed, "W- who?"

Angela looked at him and Samara, knowing this would hurt them, friends could be mentioned, "Will…"

"WHO!" he snapped loudly.

Samara was taken aback by his loud tone as he jumped up from the seat next to her. She was intrigued to hear who all had died too but she wasn't as excited as he was. Then it occurred to her that Will was not like her. He wanted to know because he was worried about these people. She wanted to hear so she could be entertained.

Angela started off softly, "There was Paul Disher, then there was a girl named Julie James, Dwight Riley, Sara Moyer, Paige Bettens- "

"Paige?" Will gasped.

Angela knew she'd hit a soft spot, "Yes, her and her roommate were both found-"

"LORI?!" He cried and leapt from his seat, taking a hold of her arms, shaking her, "Tell me Lori isn't-"

"Will…I'm…I'm so sorry…she…" Angela couldn't even finish before a sob of anguish escaped the young man.

"No, no…I won't believe….I WON'T!" He charged out of the hotel room, ignoring the cries of protest as he slammed the door shut behind him.

The others fell into silence and Angela looked at them regretfully, "I didn't mean…"

"Shh, it's okay, we understand," Alice whispered, "It's just Lori was…she and Will dated. She was one of us…a survivor. She defeated Freddy too but…but I guess not this time."

"I was looking forward to meeting her too," Jacob said solemnly, "Wanted to ask her what it was like to decapitated that son of bitch."

"She obviously didn't do a very good job," Samara muttered aloud. Considering she never spoke much, all eyes turned her way. She immediately realized that while the comment was wry humor to her the sarcasm did not go over well with the others.

She honestly couldn't give a fuck less but she knew she had to blend in so she shrugged her shoulders apologetically, remarking, "If she had he wouldn't be bothering us now…stalking me."

Angela gave her a tight smile, walking over to sit next to her and rub her shoulders, "It's okay, Sam. I understand…in times like this it's easy to get angry…cynical."

Samara hid behind her hair so she could make a face. What kind of talk was that? She didn't need someone trying to take the heat for her. She could handle herself. Not to mention she didn't care what these people thought of her.

But then there was Will…

Against her own volition her eyes drifted to the door he had left through, "Where do you think he went off too?"

"To grieve alone. He'll be fine," Maggie assured, giving Samara a sticky sweet smile, making her all ready regret asking the question aloud. Why should she care where the dopey boy went? He was of no concern. He was going to die. Just like all the stupid people here.

Maggie continued, "You know…we should all do that. Have a moment of silence. Remember those who died because of him."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Doc agreed.

"Yes, we owe it to those who…who didn't make it." Alice whispered.

Everyone bowed their heads, silent. Save for Samara, who now actually raised her head. These people were mourning those who had died? People they hadn't even met? The blood in her body boiled. Had anyone been grief stricken over her death? Had anyone cried over her? Been heart broken? 

No! Her mother may have shed a tear but considering the bitch was the one who did her in who gave a fuck how she felt! Samara suddenly wanted these people dead more than ever before when the quiet air was broken by the sound of digital squeaking.

Everyone opened their eyes, looking around when Maggie gave a chagrined look, "Oh. I forgot to turn off my cell phone."

She dug inside her purse and pulled out a frantically singing little phone. She flipped it open, clearing her throat, "Hello?"

She gasped, "Michael?!"


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

------------------------------

Chapter 27

"Of course, who else would be calling you?" Michael Reeves asked from his phone as he walked around Paris, wrapping his blue windbreaker tighter around himself; "You have other suitors I don't know about?"

Maggie let out a shaky laugh, "No, of course not, it's just I - I completely forgot…"

Everyone turned to Doc, who suddenly folded his arm, face uncharacteristically tight, "Michael is her boyfriend."

Everyone nodded and turned to look at Maggie as she continued her conversation. They could bearly hear Michael's response on the other end, "I figured as much when I waited for you at the resturant for a couple hours."

"Oh Michael…"

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart, I'm more worried than anything else. I ran to your place and you weren't there and then I went by your friend, Doc's place, and he wasn't there either. I've been calling all over, frantic to find you…"

"Michael, I am so, so sorry, you have no idea how sorry I am. I should have remembered to call you…to tell you."

"Did you get the messages I left on your cell?"

Maggie shook her head, "No, no I've been so busy I've hardly checked the messages, only made calls out. Jesus, you have no idea how bad I feel…"

"It's okay as long as you tell me what's going on. I'm worried sick over here…"

"I'm in America, Michael, something came up - it's - it's distracted me...that's why I forgot. Forgot about our date, forgot to call you…"

"Maggie, it's okay, long as I know you're safe I'm fine. Though I am upset that we missed out on dinner…I - I had some special plans for that evening." As he said this Michael pulled a small velvet box out of one of his pockets, popping it open to look at the ring inside.

"Michael, darling, you know I wanted more than anything to be there that night but…this thing that came up it's…it's very important."

"So important you can't tell me, right?" 

"Michael..."

"Look, Mags, I know you have your secrets. You always have since we first started dating…what? Three years ago?"

She gave a soft smile, "Three years and two months."

"Ah, yes, well you've always been tight lipped about a few things and I imagine this is no exception. But sweetheart, if you get up and fly to another country in the middle of the night because of some disaster, well…I know that means that I have to be there with you."

"Michael-" She began, desperate.

"No, Maggie, it's settled. I'm coming. Where are you?"

"But Michael-"

"No 'if', 'ands', or 'buts' about it, Maggie," he insisted, "If you're in trouble then you need me. I want to be by your side. Now cough up or you'll be subjected to tickle torture next time we meet."

Maggie sighed, "You're crazy, you know that?"

"You're the shrink so I guess you'd know."

"Michael, you know I hate when you call me that…"

"Where are you?"

Another sigh, "Springwood."

" Ohio?! Jesus! You really did go far didn't you?"  


"How'd you know it's in-"

"You get local paper shipped to you from there all the time. Always checking to see what's going on, I've seen you Maggie, jeez, like I said, dating three years-"

"And two months," she laughed, "I know, I'm always looking through their paper for…well…"

"Let me guess, involves why you're there now. Well don't you worry, I'm coming as soon as possible, next flight out."

"Michael-" she began again, wanting to warn him away, not wanting to put him in danger.

He cut in, "I love you." 

She couldn't help but melt, "I love you too."

She clicked her phone shut and turned to the others, blushing, "I'm sorry…"

Alice touched her hand, "It's all right, Maggie. If I had someone special in my life I'd want to speak with them too. You shouldn't push him away in a time like this. Dan helped me out so many times when I dealt with - well, you know."

"So," Jacob began, looking mischievous, "What's this guy look like?"

"Yeah, describe your man," Angela giggled.

Maggie's blush deepened, embarrassed, "Oh he's…I mean he has brown hair."

"Sounds sexy," Alice joined in, the mood lightening considerably.

Maggie sputtered, "Well, I mean, I'm not the best person at descriptions…"  


"Nice body?" Angela teased.

"And soul melting eyes?" Jacob asked in a girlish voice, causing several of them to laugh.

Samara sank deeper into her seat, clutching the rim of the chair in her fingers. God, with every ticking second she wanted to murder these people. Surprisingly Doc too, seemed unhinged and cleared his throat, "If you all will excuse me..."

He turned and left, causing the group to become somber again. Jacob spoke first, "What's his problem?"

"Doc probably doesn't think this…kind of conversation is appropriate. Everything considered." Maggie said solemnly.

"Yeah, but we need to keep some levity about us or we'll…we'll just fall apart," Alice whispered, "Me and my friends did this all the time in the beginning…"

"Doc is right. This is serious," Angela agreed, "We have to stop Freddy so we should focus. We'll have to talk about your boyfriend later, Maggie."

Maggie gave her another tiny grin, "You're right. Let's start brainstorming about how to stop my father once and for all."

As the group huddled in, mind back to the task at hand, Samara rose to her feet abruptly, "I'm going to look for Will."

They all turned to her, wide eyed at her unexpected outburst, she shrugged, "He may need someone to talk to."

"Okay, dear, that's fine," Angela whispered.

Samara turned and left. Morons, they had no idea what she was up to. She walked outside and over to the van, delighted to see that not only had Will left it behind but he had also neglected to lock the doors. She crawled inside, making herself comfortable in the passenger side seat, closing her eyes to rejoin Freddy on his killing spree.

------------------------------

EXTRA NOTE:: Just wanted to add that another reason I made this a double update was the cliffhanger on Chapter 26, I knew if I didn't I'd get a bunch of reviews bemoaning a possible Michael Myers toss in, sorry, but I'm not ready for a NOES/Ring/Halloween crossover just yet…but I will drop little goodies like that, similar to what I did with Freddy's victims - look at those names again folks and tell me if any of them ring a bell…


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: All Comments can be found at the end of the fic as I had a lot to say. Just so you know, Freddy's back! :-)

Also wanted to add, if you have not yet checked out Danielle's 'Nightmare Switch' make sure you do so as it's supposed to end soon and it is such a laugh riot - totally makes my day, always check for updates!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

****

Chapter 28

Doc called for a cab and rode back to his and Maggie's hotel. He could have waited for her to finish talking with the others but he just wanted to go back to his room and rest.

He didn't know why their conversation had got him so upset. He had met Michael, he was a great man and he made Maggie so happy. Why should he care that they chose to talk about him?

It would be easy to say that he thought it was distasteful considering the circumstances at hand but he knew that wasn't the truth. The truth was…

God, he couldn't even say it in his head. He paid the cabby and went upstairs to his room. He pulled out several texts he had brought with him and poured himself a strong cup of coffee. If the others were going to sit around and gab about their respective others the least he could do was get some work done.

They needed to find a way to stop Freddy and what's more, save the young girl he had trapped with him. He couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of horror she had been going through the past few days. And all the people this monster had killed tonight…

He flipped through several books as hours seemed to crawl by. Book after book, page after page. Newspaper articles, magazines, in-depth medical and psychological reports. At last he came across something of interest. His mind began buzzing as he started methodically circling and highlighting issues of interest.

"Of course, it all makes sense now," he whispered to himself, "This is it. This is IT!"

He grew jittery, excited as he began to organize and catalogue his find. He couldn't wait to tell the others, to tell Maggie. She'd be so thrilled, so proud. Then Michael would come.

This realization dropped Doc's elevated mood, turning everything sour. He sighed and finished putting together a folder of his findings. It was late. He imagined the group had all ready broken up and gone their separate ways. He had put a privacy sign on his door he was sure Maggie would see. She would probably not bother him until tomorrow.

He should have called, told her he had left, but he had been distracted with thoughts and feelings. Ones he shouldn't have. And then this study had consumed him. 

Once the folder was done he set it aside and prepared himself for bed, as he crawled between the sheets he thought of all that had happened. All these conflicting emotions. They weren't good for his state of mind, they made him weary and that was the last thing he wanted. Could Freddy find access into his dreams now?

No, that was ridiculous. _He_ wasn't scared of the striped psycho - even if he had caused so much terror and death. All Doc saw Freddy as was an abomination to the dreamscape - the man was controlled by the Dream Demons - he had to be stopped, put to right. There had to be a good to combat all this evil.

And more importantly _he_ controlled his dreams. No one else. That was why Freddy had been unable to wipe his memories as easily as he had others. Freddy had only been able to enter his dreams once and that was only because Doc had been distracted. Now he could not enter them and Doc knew why - his study was proof. 

Satisfied, Doc closed his eyes, feeling he was safe even as inside he continued to struggle over Maggie.

Doc's eyes opened and he found himself in an abandoned boiler room. He frowned, this made no sense. He normally dreamed of exciting adventures - scuba diving, snowboarding, things he had never done because of time constrictions. Tonight he had planned on dreaming about hot air ballooning so what was he doing here? How could a boiler room be an adventure?

__

Scrreeeechhhh!

Doc froze, looking around warily.

__

Scrreeeechhhh!

"That sound…" he spoke aloud.

__

Scrreeeechhhh!

"Scratching…metal on metal?" he turned in the direction of the sound. Up on the catwalk was the little girl. Her hair was still pulled back in the loopy red ribbons. She walked down a flight of metal steps so quickly it was like she was floating. She made a beeline straight for him, not stopping, speeding up in fact until she zoomed right in front of him.

Her skin was deathly pale and she looked up at him with bottomless black eyes, "Hello."

Doc bent down to her height, "Hello, what's your name?"

"You were looking for me," she said, each word slowly paced out, "Weren't you."

"Yes, I was," Doc replied, apprehensive. What was going on? Why was he here? He had found the girl, which had always been his goal but he had planned on telling Maggie about his find first, using that to go into the dreamscape and save her. He hadn't planned on doing it on his own. All alone. 

The realization of how alone he was began to frighten him as the girl gave a grin, drawing out her next word, "Well…"

Her hand shot out, having turned into razor fingers to slash at his kneecaps, "You found me!"

Doc screamed in agony, falling back onto his behind, his knees destroyed. Blood gushed forth and he felt dizzy as he looked down. God, the cuts were so deep both his legs had almost been torn off! He gasped, hysterical as he used his hands to crawl backward.

The little girl quickly transformed into a gloating Freddy who stood above him, head cocked to one side as he clicked his tongue, "Eh, what's up, Doc?"

Doc continued wheezing in pain, mentally chastising himself. Stupid, STUPID! Mere moments ago he'd been bragging that his study proved why he was protected but he had forgot to factor in his current mental state before falling asleep – that had everything to do with it! The study he complied even said…

Suddenly from behind Freddy the real little girl emerged. Her hair was down, not in its ribbons and she had a deadly look on her little face. She looked up at Freddy thoughtfully and he stared down at her, the gloating sneer on his face growing as he offered his hand. 

She took a firm hold of it, tiny white hand disappeared inside his big red one and they both stared down at Doc who was sweating profusely, eyes glazed with delirious suffering, "Y - You're - you…"

"We're together," Freddy chuckled, "You don't approve?"

Doc spit, struggling to not only sit up but continue to back away, "How - why…"

"I was lonely," Freddy said with mock sorrow, "But Samara here made it all better…"

"Samara," Doc looked at the girl and his eyes widened, "Sam…"

The girl grinned, showing rotten teeth, then transformed, turning into her teenager body, looking down at the man disapprovingly. Doc shook his head, "We - we trusted you…took you in..."

"Oh dear," Freddy cackled again, "I think he's lying. We have to teach him a lesson, don't we? Wash his mouth out!"

Freddy pointed at Doc and a bar of soap appeared out of no where, jammed between his teeth. Samara raised her hand and shot out over a gallon of dark dirty water, liberally splashing his face. The pouring tide didn't stop as Doc began to gurgle, close to either choking or drowning though it was hard to tell as water continue to gush in his direction.

Freddy pushed Samara's hand down, stopping the flow. She looked at him in wonder as he snapped his fingers and the soap disappeared, "Choked one chicken today."

Samara thought of Lori and once again had that irresistible urge to laugh, but instead added, "Two."

"Hmm?"

"Disher."

"Oh, yes, well that kid just lost himself to the music," Freddy muttered then knelt down to face Doc, pointing a razor finger in his direction, "Now what to do with you…"

Doc scowled, "You can do whatever you want, but even if I die, it doesn't matter. You won't get Maggie. You'll be stopped! I found the way!"

Freddy snorted, "You know how many stupid shits have told me that?! And I keep coming back for more. As long as there's fear, I'll always survive. I told you once that I am forever but I'm more than that. I. AM. ETERNITY."

Then his head cocked to the side, "You speak of my _daughter_," he seemed to gag on this word, "Like she's so very special. Why is that?"

Doc didn't answer but the look on his face was enough. Freddy's head tossed back as he let out a gale of cruel laughter, "You're in love with her, aren't you, you fat shit! Well, I hate to break it to you, but you're a bit old for her?"

Doc glared at him, pointing an accusing finger in Samara's direction, "And she isn't too young for you?"

"Oh her?" Freddy asked dryly, "She's just my child. My…new daughter."

"You all ready _have_ a daughter. Maggie…"

"Yeah and what a fucking disappointment she turned out to be," Freddy seethed, "Thanks to fucks like you…"

With that he rose to his feet, "But I've been a rude host, we could use some lights, better to set the mood."

He raised his hands and the boiler room erupted with light as fires roared out from several furnaces, illuminating the area in a red orange glow. Doc's head cast from side to side, feeling the overpowering heat as flames licked all around him. Freddy tossed his head back and laughed while Samara continued to glare at Doc.

Her eyes had grown all black and her face was so blank that Doc couldn't help but shiver despite the rising temperature. He was in Hell. The girl walked closer to him, the bottom of her white dress and shoes filthy. The red streaks in her hair resembled rivers of blood as she looked down at him, her hair beginning to conceal her face.

"Sam…" Doc begged, trying to reach what good he thought was inside her.

The hair fell away and her dark black eyes had grown ghastly light in the center, skin covered in hideous, bulging veins. As their eyes locked Doc screamed, excruciating images overwhelming his mind. The things she was showing him…so horrible he couldn't bear it.

He felt like his eyeballs were exploding, his mouth couldn't open wide enough to let out all of his scream. As soon as it started it stopped but he was still alive. He felt his skin bubbling as if every vein had been pulled tight and he was practically blind from all he had seen in his mind's eye. He could vaguely hear Freddy's voice snarling at her, "Not yet!"

His vision slowly returned but was rimmed with edges of white. He could make out Samara shooting Freddy a withering look, furious that her death glare had been interrupted. Doc knew no one was going to save him. He knew he was going to die. But he couldn't help but continue to plead with her, "Sam…think of Will. What will he say?"

Samara froze, not moving, her face met his once more, then her hair fell into place, hiding her from view. Freddy looked at Samara, face _actually_ showing a moment of doubt. A question formed on his lips but was never spoken; instead he hissed and turned away, shoulders hunched, fuming.

Doc looked between the two of them, suddenly curious himself. Then the tight moment exploded.

Swiftly Freddy turned and leapt on Doc, lashing out, his clawed hand striking at him viciously, slashing frantically over and over. Screams reverberated through the boiler room - bouncing off of pipes, echoing down abandoned halls.

Once Freddy had released his pent up anger, his visage sprayed with blood, he reached down and took a firm grasp of Doc's torn sweater. The man looked like tenderized, raw bloody beef but was still slightly conscious. Certainly alive enough to feel the overwhelming heat before him.

Freddy opened one of the furnace doors and chuckled, "In you go."

With that he roughly tossed the man inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

------------------------------

George - Good news, Freddy's back in this installment and hopefully you enjoyed it! I think I should probably explain myself - one, last update was in fact double not only because I didn't want to leave a torturous cliffhanger - but also because I was trying to push _through_ the human stuff to reach Freddy. 

To me Freddy is a treat you receive because honestly I feel I have yet to peg him as deftly as others have - writing him for me is a challenge. Also, I'm trying to inject some emotion (in myself) for the characters because honestly - save for Will and Angela who I basically had to write from scratch - I honestly did not like _any_ of the previous survivors from the others films as I felt most of them were cheaply drawn.

But by writing them myself and giving them their own air time and quirks, I've come to actually care for some of them - making future death more interesting. I like Alice and Jacob now as well as Maggie, who before I despised because I never was much one for the 'relative out of nowhere' plot (Pmad should be happy to know this - as she's a Maggie fan - you made me one too, girl! :-) 

Ayezur Draca - The glove - well, I can't speak for other NOES fans - but for me I focus on the glove simply because _it is_ _cool_. I mean I know I wish I had one - it'd make my killings so much easier - LOL. 

Seriously though, I think the reason writers focus in on the glove so much is because, as I tried to explain in the fic, everyone has a twisted little dark side just waiting for an excuse to get out and run rampant but people's morals and assumed weakness keep them at bay - but if you had power…hmm. 

As they say, absolute power - blah, blah, you know the old adage. I think that in retrospect you could relate the glove back to the ring from Lord of the Rings - it is power, something you want, but to have it comes at a price - for Frodo it's the fact that the ring is pure evil - for people and Freddy's glove it's the fact that while the glove is cool, it chopped up a bunch of little kids. 

But you are probably right that I waxed poetic about it too much and I will try not to do so again in future chapters.

Which, as Jerry Springier would say, leads me to my final thought: When I chose to write more of this I couldn't just - you know - write more of it. I like to think things out and make them as realistic (to me) as possible, with an interesting plot, which is why a story that started out as a one shot became 35 chapters! 

I am my own worst critic and tend to overanalyze every single thing, trying to imagine it from a readers' point of view - this has it's highlights as well as it's drawbacks, in many ways I merely need a Beta but good ones are so hard to find!


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Close to the final chapters - I can tell you right now, after Chapter 31 we're moving at lightning speed! And, as a warning, I'll also let you know Chapters 30 and 31 are all human oriented a.k.a. no Freddy again - sorry guys but hey, this'll be the last time obviously as the end is Freddy BIG time - 'cause I'll give you a hint, we've got - oh - about five people left - and I like even numbers more if you catch my drift…

Pimp/Recs longer than usual, so they're at the bottom!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: VIOLENCE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 29

Doc's screams seemed endless but once they died, stark silence took their place. Samara's attention seemed to be focused intently on the furnace door, watching the flames flicker ravenously at the grated metal door.

Freddy stood to one side of her. Covered in blood, breathing heavy. His nostrils flared every few moments and she could practically feel the residual energy coming off of him. His actions spoke far louder than words ever could as she felt his eyes on her. 

At last he spoke, "So…what _would_ Will say?"

She sighed, crossing her arms, head casting off to look as far away from him as possible, "It's nothing."

He charged over to her, taking her chin in his hand and turning her head towards him so sharply she was surprised he didn't snap her neck. He shook her until her hair parted and fell away to reveal her face, fingers squeezing her jaw with bruising force, "It had better be. This isn't some game. Don't fuck with me."

He let her go and the look she shot him was lethal. How dare he have the gall to touch her! And once again without her consent! He had no right to tell her what she could do! And the last time they had met - that intimate moment - still hung between them - awkward and unspoken. What the hell had it been anyway?

This very thought was currently troubling the Dream Stalker, who was unaccustomed to falling into a bloodlust quite like that. The memory of his actions haunted him - what the hell had he been doing? If not interrupted, what would he have done? Would he have actually kissed…

He shook his head. And now his pupil was fucking around with some middling human - and not just any human, but that fucking pretty boy who'd been banging the blonde who'd decapitated him!

Samara was _his_.

He had let her get away with far too much for far too long. There would be no more distractions. It was time she learned she had limits. Time she was…disciplined.

He turned to her, deceptively calm, "Samara…come here."

One of his razors beckoned her over and she frowned, wondering if she should listen to him. Unable to think of a reason not to obey, she did so, standing inches from him. He sneered, pleased; "Did you hear what I told the good Doctor? About you being my…daughter."

She gave a small, nod, "Yes, I did."

"And what did you think?"

"I thought…" she replied, eyes narrowed, "That I haven't had much luck with fathers…"

"Oh really?" Freddy's look grew darker as her defiant nature was revealed.

"Yes," she said pointedly, "Mine always tried to push me in the direction he wanted and when I didn't he turned against me. I also question what exactly we are accomplishing-"

The rest of her sentence was cut off as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and viciously yanked her to him. A few strands ripped free from her scalp, causing her to yelp as he hissed into her ear, "_I'm_ accomplishing exactly what I planned. And as for you, _Dollface_, you just do what Daddy tells you."

The way he purred the last statement caused those strange sensations to tingle down her spine again but she ignored it, struggling furiously in his grip. He merely cackled and drew his blades near her throat, drawing them lightly along her skin.

Blood welled up against the porcelain white flesh and he felt the surge shoot though him, a cross between elation and anger as he bent her head back further, grip tightening, claw cutting deeper.

She fought harder, face transforming into its rotted form, rage overpowering. She stomped a foot down on his with such force that he let go, startled. She turned and with a flick of her fingers an invisible fist slammed into his gut, tossing him backward.

He caught himself, landing on his feet as gracefully as a cat. His eyes turned yellow as a demon's, skin blistering red. She used _his_ dreamscape against him! She used what _he_ had taught her against him! That BITCH!

He charged toward her, claws swiping out when she fell back and pressed her bare arm to one of the hot boilers. She screeched and disappeared, having woken her body up through the act.

Freddy sneered, where had he seen that before?

Nancy.

Fucking Nancy!

Samara must have seen that in his mind when she'd scanned his memories. She remembered it and used it. She had yet again escaped him. That was it…he was going to kill her fucking body, that's all there was to it. Then she could never escape him again.

------------------------------

Samara blinked a few times, then checked her arm. There was no burn but she still felt it throbbing. She dropped the limb and scowled - how could things with Freddy have gone from good to bad so quickly?

Looking around she realized she was in Will's van. She had completely forgotten she had come here to sleep. At the time she had wanted to get away from the group of survivors in Alice's hotel room to be reunited with Freddy - eager to commit another murder and, more importantly, get some questions their much-needed answers.

Instead she had gotten neither. Freddy had killed Doc - just as he had the others and he hadn't answered any of her questions - hell she hadn't even gotten to ask them. And now she probably never would. How could she face him again? He was angry with her, he'd probably kill her - or rather, her human body.

And for the craziest reason she found this idea bothered her - somehow she had grown fond of this body. She wanted to keep it. She didn't want to be the little girl anymore - she wanted to be the teenager. The woman. Only moments ago she'd been so desperate to free herself and now this.

Could the immediate about face merely have been caused by her recent confrontation with Freddy or was there more to it? 

Deep inside, since her inhabitation of the body had begun, she had been struggling with the wave of emotions she had begun to feel - things going through her system she had never experienced before. Some were good, others not - but to want to stay in this body, to be alive… 

Why would she possibly want to condemn herself to this? To limitations? If she wasn't in full-blown spirit form she couldn't kill as easily - she'd keep feeling, keep being mired in confusion. Why would she want do this to herself? What was there to gain?

The driver's side door to her left popped open and Will hefted himself up. He sat himself in his seat then turned and saw her, baby blues going wide, "Sam? What are you doing here?"

Samara looked at him as if he had just sprouted antenna, unsure of how to begin to answer that question. But instead he supplied the reasons for her, "Were you looking for me? Waiting?"

She took this and ran with it, giving a simple shrug, "I knew you'd come back eventually."

To her this was a common fact but he took it to mean something more, a soft expression taking him as he closed the driver's side door and put the keys into the ignition. He started the heat, turning to her, "You must be freezing…having waited all this time."

Another shrug when suddenly he edged forward, closer to her. She frowned, that expression was still on his face and he was coming closer. She thought of what Freddy had done and could see Will doing the same. 

Sensations began to spark in her lips and she was about to draw away from him, worried he'd aim his mouth for hers but instead his hand reached out, palm pressing first to her forehead, then to her cheek.

Disher had done something similar to this but his touch had automatically infuriated her, this…this was not as unwanted for reasons she could not fathom. He clicked his tongue, "Jesus, you're freezing…here."

He drew off his jacket and pressed it towards her, "Put this on."

She was about to decline but the look in his eyes was enough to make her reach for it, slipping it on. He grinned, "You might want to put your hands on the vent too – your little fingers are probably icicles by now."

She just kept looking at him, face flat. He gave a nervous chuckle; "You don't want to lose those…they help you draw, right?"

Actually her mind helped her do that but she decided to placate him, pressing her slim fingertips to the vent. The heat curling out felt strange to her, numbing and new as it seemed to take away the perpetual dampness that clung to her flesh. 

All these feelings – nerve endings causing synapses of realization to spark along her spine and in her brain. To be alive. More alive than she had ever been…

She used to miss death so much but now? Now she wasn't so sure. These experiences – she wanted them. Wanted it all! She turned to Will, who had the goofiest look on his face. Aware he'd been caught staring he blushed, running a hand through his hair, "Sorry…just…you look good in my jacket."

She didn't respond and he laughed, "Oh jeez…I've been reduced to bad come on lines. Disher would be proud…"

He shook his head, "I'm sorry, I'm just…so messed up. So depressed and confused and shocked and…I mean, you probably wonder why I ran off like that. You see, Lori-"

"Was your girlfriend," Samara interrupted, surprising him, "Paige told me. She…wouldn't shut up."

This last part had a sour tone added to it but Will merely chuckled, "Yeah, she does…she did that. Go on and on about nothing. I wasn't really her friend but I heard enough about her to know...Jesus…and now she's dead. Lori too…"

He sighed, sitting back in his seat, "Lori…I loved her. I really did. At one point in my life she was the most important thing in the world to me. My soul mate. God…you can be so stupid when you're young. Shit, I'm still young, still stupid…you can feel free to argue with me. Try to save my shattered male ego…"

She didn't understand what he was talking about so she couldn't begin to help him; he gave another chuckle, "You're right, self-pity is…," he shook his head, "I hate airing low self-esteem issues and it is so fucking inappropriate after a night like tonight but…Lori, shit. It was over between us, so over but I never wanted her to…"

He trailed off, tears welling up, "Last time I saw her I was so mean to her, you know? Yelling at her and shit and now she's fucking dead! I didn't get to apologize, didn't get to say good bye …"

Samara was as unprepared for tears as she was for this conversation. She remembered lingering around Katie's home during her funeral. She had never been with people after the death of someone close to them. Watching their reactions was fascinating. The grief, the hopelessness - why did they feel this way? What caused it. So the person was dead, so what?

But as she looked at Will it occurred to her that maybe it was because they were sad at the prospect of never seeing the person again. Never receiving…feelings from them again. This was something she could understand - it sort of explained her new bizarre attachment to her body.

If Will died would she miss him?

This question was unexpected. All those people - Maggie. Alice, Jacob…they were going to die and she didn't care but Will…could she kill him? Could she let Freddy…

He was crying silently and she knew if this was anyone else she would have marked it as a weakness, but seeing Will do so caused her to feel strangely upset. Part of her knew she should do something. But she couldn't think of what. 

Finally she spoke, remarking to his last comments, "Why would you have said good-bye? You didn't know she was going to die."

Will turned to her, blinking. Embarrassed he wiped his eyes, "What did you say?"

"Saying good-bye, how would that have helped? You didn't know she would die so why would you have said it?"

He pondered over this, frowning, "I guess you have a point…"

She nodded, pleased. He sighed and turned to face her, "Thanks for listening anyway. I mean, that's why I like you, you're so easy to talk to…"

His eyes had the strangest light to them and Samara found that her cheeks felt warm. Then she realized her fingers were still on the vent. She drew them away, sitting back in her seat to allow her hair to fall forward, hiding again. Will watched the action and couldn't help but grin, "I should probably take you home."

He started up the van and as he drove Samara's mind lingered over all that was happening. What the hell was she going to do next?

------------------------------

Now for my pimps/recs! Some of these are repeats but I can't help it because these people's stories are SO good they have to be mentioned again because they've updated, just reminding me how good their story is and how much you need to check it out:

Oldie but Goldies:

Dani's 'Nightmare Switch' is reaching the end -why, god, WHY?! So funny, even now at it's finale, please, please, please read, I promise you'll thank me later - her Freddy is rolling-on-the-floor-laughing-my-ass-off funny!

Ayezur's 'Event Horizon' is over and ::sob:: AW GAWD! It's so sad! For once we have a softer (or as soft as you can get) version of Freddy and it's - just - so - friggin' - sweet! Toothache and all and he's with this chick Penny who's such a sweetheart and you have to love it, I mean Freddy…Penny…see the similar naming? God, just read it will you, please?!

Newbies are Groovies:

Pmad is the queen of Maggie/Katherine - no doubt about it, I crown her and give her the sash, she has her hands down and she has a variety of Maggie stories that'll convert you into a Maggie lover whether you like it or not - and her Freddy is just sick! You love him, hate him, fear him! Read her NOES 7 & 8 sequels! They're bone chilling ::shudders::

Nick's 'Halloween: Bloodlines' Long story short? Someone FINALLY does Michael Myers justice with a decent idea! Bringing back survivors too - I love that! You've got John Tate and Tommy Doyle - ugh, so beautiful it'll make your eyes water!

HowlynMad 'Group is Now in Session' - HowlynMad is a bastard - and I say this with the deepest affection. This story about Freddy and our other beloved horror icons in Group is so funny you will swear you're going to die because you laugh so much you forget/don't breathe! Howlyn is so good it makes you ashamed! READ!

Lastly, NON-Freddy fun:

MonkChic24's 'Mr. Monk and the Mosh Pit' if you watch USA's 'Monk' you know that show's pretty gosh darn cute and this fic fits in perfectly with that - so huggable and funny and - you like this show? - read it!

Ironical Jester's 'Lethe' - Two words: Matrix. Slash. Sounds horrible but I trust you it's not, not in Jester's brilliant hands. It's a real shame I mention this one all the way at the bottom because Jester is f*cking amazing - I have to curse because Jester's so amazing. If you think you can handle slash - much less Matrix slash - I highly recommend this one.


	30. Chapter Thirty

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Back after a nice lengthy break - hopefully 'Thriller' tided a few of you over - though I doubt it. I have so much to say but I'll keep it as brief as possible.

First, this and the next chapter are _human_ oriented, in other words, no Freddy, no Samara - no fun! :-( 

I agree that without them things are no where near as good, but what can I say? We need to push through this stuff, people so we can _reach_ the good stuff! Like they say, 'good things come to those who wait, etc, etc.'. And I promise you - Chapters 32 - 35 are so Freddyful you'll be drooling with happiness…

Quick heads up to new reviewer -abnormal-girl - thanks for your kind words! I am flattered muchly! 

One other note, this chapter and 31 have both been edited about a hundred times but probably STILL need corrections, I would go over it again one more time but I'm not feeling so hot tonight so I'm just gonna post them so you can satiate your appetite for 'Nightmare Ring'. I plan on re-reading my printed version again tomorrow and if corrections need to be made I shall do them - okay, I think that satisfied my inner critic.

My normal recs'll be featured in Chapter 31's author notes- now read and enjoy!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

****

Chapter 30

Maggie felt like she'd never stop screaming. They'd found Doc's dead body over six hours ago and she still felt like she'd never stop wailing from the agony of loss. Doc was dead. Her best friend was dead. Dead. Dead. DEAD!

How could she go on?! There was no way she could make it through this without Doc at her side, no way she could defeat Krueger. She wasn't strong enough, wasn't brave enough…

Doc was her support, her rock. And now he was dead. Murdered by her father. That bastard. _That bastard!_

They'd found Doc in his hotel room - charred to black ashes, practically cremated right there on his bed. The rest of the room was in pristine order, the police and Hotel operators couldn't even begin to explain it but Maggie knew.

As did Alice and Jacob who were trying their best to console her. They took her back to their hotel, bringing along with them all of Doc's former belongings. Jacob was leafing through page after page of Doc's work material as Alice made Maggie a pot of tea.

Maggie was still bawling, head down on a table, inconsolable. Still, Alice tried her best, murmuring soothing words and rubbing her back. She'd shoot Jacob a look now and then, "Honey, you should really concentrate more on getting a hold of the others then looking at those papers…"

"Mom, this could be important…"

"Jacob…"

"There could be something in here that could stop Fre-"

"Now is not the time!" Alice snapped, voice tight, "Do what I say!"

Jacob knew there was no arguing with his mother at this point and with a disgruntled noise tossed the files aside. He shoved his hands in his pockets and charged out of the room. Once outside he let out a vicious curse, lashing out at a nearby trashcan, his foot creating an impressive dent in its side.

Fuck, they had just met the man last night and now…

Freddy was working fast, tearing his way through all of them. Who was going to be next?

"Like fucking Ten Little Indians…" Jacob muttered under his breath.

According to all the stories he'd heard Freddy never normally worked this fast. It was like he was updating his methods or something. Slash and dash his way through the lot of them. Two survivors were down now. Only three to go. And the new victim, Sam.

And what about Angela? How did she fit in? She hadn't received the video but she was as much a part of this as anyone else. What was her role? Once again, he knew it all couldn't be a coincidence. If only his mother had let him continue rifling through those papers, maybe he could have found an answer…

Then he remembered what Will had said last night. Sam's paintings of Freddy had caused the fears in the local teens. Why would she spread the fear like that? It had to have been accidental…that's what had happened with his mother but still…there was something about the girl that was just not right…

Jacob rubbed his eyes, no, no he was crazy. There was nothing wrong with Sam; he was burned out, fatigued from no sleep and all the death around him. 

Back inside Alice was pouring Maggie tea, "Here honey, drink this, it'll help…"

"N-nothing'll help," Maggie gasped, "He's gone…god, he's gone and he helped me through so much, you have no idea h-how much I o-owe him and h-how much he meant…"

"Shhh," Alice whispered, still rubbing her back, "Drink this."

Maggie took a sip, trying to catch her breath, "Why would he have done that? Why would he have slept…"

"We were all pretty shook up last night. Maybe he just meant to rest his eyes…"

"No, you don't understand. Doc he - he controlled his dreams. When I first met him he told me about the Dream Demons, he remembered the kids who'd died and been wiped from everyone's memories by my father because he was in control of his mind…something got him upset, something made him vulnerable so my father could get in and - and…"

Alice frowned, "Maggie…have you…had any dreams since you last saw your father?"

Her forehead crinkled as she thought about this, "No, actually. I mean, I had to relearn how to sleep after it all happened but - but I don't think I've had any dreams since. I can't remember one."

"Neither can I. Neither can Jacob. Maggie, I think after each of us defeated Krueger something changed because none of us have had any dreams - any at all. It's like we're cut off from the dreamscape or our willpower keeps him out. Like you said about Doc, maybe we learned to control our dreams or like my experience, we all have dream powers - maybe we changed them all to blocking out dreams all together to protect ourselves…"

"And that power failed Doc last night?" Maggie asked, "But why would that happen…"

"You said he may have been upset. He - he certainly seemed so after Michael called."

"Michael." Maggie murmured quietly, "God, he's coming here…he'll never believe…"

Her eyes landed on the files Jacob had tossed down and she went over to them, tossing the papers around like crazy. Alice stood up, worrying her lower lip, "What are you doing?"

"Your son was right, the answer has to be in here somewhere-"

"Maggie, this isn't the time-"

"THEN WHEN IS IT!" Maggie snapped, "After you're dead, after I am?! This isn't going to stop, Alice! Not with those kids, with Lori, with Doc…he's not going to stop. He's going to keep going until he gets what he wants and that's us! That's why he took that girl and - Jesus, do you know how long he's had her in there! Do you know how many he's killed in total! How many lives he's ruined! If you're a survivor and I'm a survivor and Will….god, he's been around too fucking long and he keeps being stopped and coming back and I'm sick of it! I want an end! There has to be something here that'll do it! That'll explain…"  
  
Maggie was practically panting now as she tore at the papers, hysterical. She collapsed to the floor, sobs consuming her again. Alice rushed to her side, wrapping her arms around her to hold her close. 

Maggie was still trying to talk, even through her cries, "I have to find the answer before Michael gets here…before he gets Michael…I've lost Doc I couldn't bear it if - if…I'd rather die…"

"He won't get Michael," Alice vowed, "We'll stop him. I promise."

Maggie felt delirious when her eyes landed on a folder. It was no different than any of the other folders laying around but for some reason it called to her. She drew away from Alice, her hands taking hold of it.

"What's that?" Alice asked. As if under a trance, Maggie opened it and began leafing through paper after paper.

Good sections of it were marked and highlighted. Maggie gasped, "This is it…"

"What? What's it?" 

"Doc must have worked on this last night before," her eyes turned to Alice, "Where's Jacob?"

"I think he's still outside, he stormed off…"

"Go get him," Maggie said quickly, "This is what we were looking for."


	31. Chapter Thirty One

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Okay, so this is gonna sound kinda funny, but if you have ever seen the kid's film 'Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas' - the Goddess of Chaos, Eris, voiced by Michelle Pfeiffer is SO what I imagine as a trait for Samara - she's all wispy, smoky and watery in her movements - I dunno, just makes me think of her - that and the dark hair, bluish skin, and yellow/red eyes are very cool combo. She friggin' stole that kid's flick - and reminded me what an awesome voice Pfeiffer has - tres sexy.

Just so you all know, both Draca and Danielle did sequels to the stories I loved by them:

Danielle - 'Nightmare Date', sequel to 'Nightmare Switch' - the laughter continues! ;)

Draca - 'Singularity', sequel to 'Event Horizon'. Considering 'Horizon' had one of the first Freddy smut scenes I've ever read this one is a must read.

Nephthys - Speaking of goddess, Neph, goddess of NOES fic has written a new one entitled 'Moth to a Flame' and _boyohboy_ it has slash! Lotsa of fun - read!

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 31

"I came as soon as I could," Angela panted as Jacob opened the hotel room door for her. She took a seat at the table across from Maggie who had an open folder and several papers laid out in front of her.

Alice was sitting on her bed, phone to one ear. She sighed and hung up, walking over to take her own seat at the table, Jacob copying her, "I've tried and tried but I still can't get a hold of Will, much less Sam…"

"We can't wait any longer," Maggie muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "I'll just have to tell her now-"

"Tell me what?" Angela asked curiously.

"Angela, Doc died last night."

Angela's hand went to her mouth, eyes wide, "No…"

"Yes but not in vain - he found something," she pointed down to the papers, "Dream Demons used to roam the dreams of the living looking for the most wicked human imaginable to give their powers to. They found that person, my father, Freddy Krueger. They gave him immortal life in exchange for his body and soul, they live inside him - allow him to make nightmares reality."

"Maggie, we know this, Doc told us last night, why are you-"

She interrupted, frustrated, "Listen, Doc found out last night, before he died that there aren't just Dream Demons - there are also Dream Angels."

"Dream Angels?" Angela scoffed, folding her arms and looking at them incredulously, "That's ridiculous!"

"Is it anymore ridiculous than Dream Demons?" Jacob asked.

"Good point." She conceded.

Maggie continued, "What you have to understand is that the Dreamscape is its own world with its own rules and way of life. See, according to the information Doc complied, long ago, before time was time, the Dreamscape was populated by the Dream Demons and the Dream Angels and they were ruled over by the Dream Master-"

Alice gasped, "The Dream Master! This I know about, my mother used to tell me…the guardian of good dreams…"

"Not just good dreams, _all_ dreams." Maggie stressed, "The Dream Master ruled over the Demons and Angels and kept the Dreamscape world balanced. Good, evil - dream, nightmare. Everything was equal but something happened - the Dream Master disappeared and this caused an upheaval in the Dreamscape world - the Demons rose up and decided to create their own ruler-"

"Freddy?" Jacob asked.

Maggie nodded, "Yes, they chose to inhabit him, give him their powers. The Angels chose to do the same but instead of choosing just one person to inhabit they chose many different people and through them help others by showing them their dream powers. Alice, your friend Kristen was a Dream Angel, that's why she introduced you to your powers - when she died though, her powers and status were passed on to you-"

"So you're saying…"

"You're a Dream Angel, Alice, as was Doc. See the Dream Angels, once they've mastered their powers are in complete control of their dreams. They can act like anchors to others, so that their dreams too remain uncorrupted. Alice, you've used your powers to protected Jacob from Freddy all these years and Doc, he used his on me."

"What about me?" Angela asked, "I don't know anyone who's a Dream Angel and I've never had dreams of…"

"I think you are an Angel, Angela." 

Again she scoffed, "Impossible! I don't have any special powers…"

"But you've never had a dream with Freddy either, have you? Even when Jesse was having his problems…"

She began to shake her head, "No…"

Maggie went on undaunted, "Freddy wanted to hurt Jesse so he tried to attack you physically through Jesse's body but why not just go into your dreams? He didn't because he couldn't, because you're an Angel-"

"This is crazy…" she whispered.

"But it's true," Maggie muttered, "Kristen and Doc died because they got upset and let their guard down, otherwise they both would have been safe. Doc anchored me and considering what he discovered he would have learned more about his powers, tapped me so I could use mine - think about it, the more people know about this, the more they learn the more likely they can protect themselves…"

"Wait, wait," Jacob interrupted, "If we have powers, why can't we control the Dreamscape like Freddy does? Or can only people who are Angels do that and if so why don't they control it like he does?"

"He's got Demons inside him, Jacob, underline on the plural, _Demons_. Alice and Angela only have one Angel inside them. And with the Dream Master missing or dead…there's no one to stop Freddy from having complete control. Think about it, if a Guardian of Dreams existed and ruled over the Dreamscape do you honestly think Freddy would be as powerful as he is? No, but since the Dream Master is gone…"

"He has free reign," Alice whispered.

"Okay, got it, one more question," Jacob persisted, "Angela didn't know she was an Angel, so she never learned to control her powers, how has she been protected all this time?"  


Maggie thought for a few moments before speaking, "Well, even as a child she seemed very determined and Doc didn't know about his powers when he first dealt with Freddy either so my best guest is willpower. Like I said, Doc only died because he was distracted, otherwise he would have been in complete control of his dreams and Freddy would have had no access. Angela never had any reason to believe Freddy would enter her dreams so she was always in control, protected…"

"And by acting like an anchor Mom spared me and when Doc was alive he spared you, think I've got it but man would I like to know what happened to the Dream Master…"

"Wherever they went they left the Dreamscape to Freddy…" Maggie said, eyes narrowed, "Until now. We need to find a way to use this knowledge to our advantage but first," she licked her lips nervously," I think a test is in order."

"A test?" Alice asked.

"I need to fall asleep," she looked at Alice, "And I need you to come with me."

"What?"

"Alice, I need to know if Doc's theory is right, if it is you and I will enter the Dreamscape together but you'll be able to pull us out, act as the anchor-"

"Whoa, whoa, I don't want you guys jumping into his realm!" Jacob protested.

"Jacob, it will be fine, your mother has had years of practice now, her willpower is strong, she'll be more than enough of an anchor to pull me out - she'll be in control-"

"More in control than Freddy who controls the Dreamscape you're in?!" Jacob shouted, "No, no! It's too risky! I won't-"

"I'll go." Angela piped up.

All eyes turned to her, "What?"

"I'll go. If what Maggie said is true than my willpower has been guarding me a long time, I'm probably strong enough to pull us out and then Jacob doesn't have to worry about his Mom."

"I don't know Angela…you just found out about five minutes ago that-"

Her eyes narrowed, "You said this was just a test, right? Alice and Jacob are right here, if it looks like we're in trouble they'll wake us up."

Maggie looked helplessly to Alice and Jacob, both their faces held the same reservations but Alice chose to speak first, "She's right Maggie, it _is_ just a test. It's probably better this way. I may have more experience but I…I don't think I'm ready to go there just yet…"

She sighed, "All right. Angela, let's get some shut eye."


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: We're winding down now! Only…what? Three chapters to go! Hope everyone likes the outcome. Quick recs:

Dani - The Horrors of Springwood High - unlike Nightmare Switch/Date, this is not humor but much darker. And who can avoid Freddy as a teenager?! With teenage angst?! Delicious!

Sweet-Steffie - All her stuff - she does fluffy WWE fics, which, I know most people here don't read but Steffie and I spoke on AOL IM and we have so much in common it's eerie and what we don't have in common is so staggeringly different it's like - daaaaaaaaammmmmn!

Lastly, Friday, December 5th, is my 21st BD! Everyone who reads/reviews this is invited to my party! I love you all!!! XD *^_^* - two smileyes for the price of one…or something.

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

****

Chapter 32

Samara Morgan looked into the mirror at her face. Becca Kotler's face. This was the face she wore; this was the face people saw. Her fist smashed into the glass shattering it. The silvery surface broke into jagged cobwebs, distorting her image. This was what _she_ saw.

She turned around and looked at her room. It was in shambles. The bed had been tossed over, the curtains torn to shreds, piggy banks smashed, beanie babies destroyed, and pillows ripped open. The floor covered with dirt, coins, blood, feathers, and glass.

As quiet as a breath she strode down the stairs. The rest of the house was no better. Dark, filthy water rolled down the walls, causing the wallpaper to bubble and crack. The ceiling was starting to stain brown and all the windows were smashed. The front door, which bearly hung on its hinges, squeaked in the breeze.

Samara looked outside into the darkness. How had she reached this point? She used to be in control. Her video would circulate - people would watch and seven days later…

But now she was trapped in this body, this body she was growing increasingly more attached to, and she hadn't killed a person in days…well, until today. A wicked smile took her at the thought but she still agonized over what else had been left unchecked.

How long had it been since those people had seen the video she had made Freddy? How many people had seen her original video since this had begun?

How many days had passed?

How many people had escaped her seven-day sentence?

Had escaped their fate?

And what's more - did she even care anymore? 

When Will dropped her off the other night, he had looked at her with those soft baby blues and asked so innocently, "Do you...want to go out with me tomorrow night?"

And she had looked at him, looked at a boy who would be considered handsome and desirable by any other girl and said, "Sure."

She didn't know why she had agreed; she didn't know why she had contemplated his features and what's more, why she had given thought to what it would be like to be…normal. She hated normal people - that's why she killed them.

What had happened to that ancient knowledge she had been born with? As each day passed, as each moment elapsed and she sank further and further into this body she felt less like Samara Morgan and more like…Sam.

Then her thoughts would turn to Freddy and what he had offered, how she felt around him, what he did to her…

And she almost had to clutch her head because of all the noise inside it, thoughts crashing around enough to tear open her skull. She was supposed to kill, she needed to kill. Not go on dates with pretty boys. Not be some angsty teen…

The confusion inside her had grown into a bubble and eventually burst - unleashing unspeakable horror. She had never released all the power inside her like that before - much less in the outside world. It had been…invigorating. Her heart had beat like a little bird trapped in a cage, her breathing took moments before it managed to die down from ragged pants. To have so much power, to let it go…

She walked into the living room. The television set had exploded, black smoke still slowly curling out of its center. Two cushy armchairs faced it and rested in each seat were her - no, Becca's - grandparents.

Mr. and Mrs. Edward Kotler. Their mouths looked ripped wide open - hanging irregularly low, as if their jaws had to elongate to allow their screams to escape. Their eyes were glossy, liquid white and their skin was a molted green. Samara looked down at the two dead people, then turned and floated towards the front door again.

She went outside and sat on the front steps.

She leaned her head against a post and her thoughts went to the endless sea of troubles that lay before her eyes.

Freddy.

Will.

Will.

Freddy.

Freddy//Will//Freddy// Will//Freddy// _Will//Freddy// Will//Freddy// Will//Freddy// _

Samara moaned, tossing her head side to side. She couldn't think straight and she hadn't slept in what felt like forever. Ever since her last encounter with Krueger she had found herself latching on to coffee - she wasn't sure what to expect from him now and for a girl who spent most of her time sleeping, not even taking a cat nap was exhausting.

She sucked in a breath, realizing the only way she was truly going to get any answers was to give in to her dreams. She may have to contend with Freddy but she had to know where they stood. She closed her eyes and gave into the dreamscape, unaware that miles away, Maggie and Angela had also laid themselves down to sleep, Alice and Jacob at their side.

Samara opened her eyes and found herself in the dreamscape's wasteland, she was only there for a moment when she felt, more than saw Maggie and Angela. Her mouth dropped open a little, "They're here."

This realization slowly settled in - two sitting ducks in a pond she knew how to control. An evil little smile formed as a twisted idea came to mind. She thought back to all that Freddy had taught her and raised her hands. 

Maggie had no sooner opened her eyes then she found herself in a narrow, endless hall. Above her head were bright white fluorescent lights that flickered and buzzed. She could barely even turn from side to side. She looked forward and then behind her. 

  
"Angela?" Her voice came out weakly, echoing off walls.

There was no answer and Maggie realized she was horribly cold. She rubbed her arms, wondering where her friend had disappeared to when the light above her let out a loud pop, extinguishing.

She squeaked as orange sparks floated down. Another vicious pop and the light before her went out. She looked ahead and saw the little girl from the video standing there. She seemed to almost fill the whole hallway even though she was so small. Her hair was not in the loopy red ribbons but instead hung heavily around her face, only her pale forehead visible. 

The ends of her hair seemed to rise up and cling to the walls on either side, slowly creeping their way down the hall. Her hair was growing, stretching out, consuming everything, and blanketing it in darkness. Maggie wasn't going to wait for it to reach her, she turned and ran.

The strands grew faster, racing along the walls, chasing after her. The lights above began to flash in and out almost like a strobe and a noise filled the air, thumping repetitively over and over, a concentrated beating rhythm like a steady heartbeat.

Maggie kept running until the hall abruptly dead-ended. Her eyes grew wide, beginning to water as she clawed with desperate fingers at the plaster, breaking it away. The heartbeat grew louder, more insistent as the hair, the darkness, grew closer and closer.

Millions of the thin strands reached out, wrapping around Maggie like miniature ropes, whipping around her wrists to draw her arms back, taking hold of her legs so she couldn't struggle, almost wrapping her in a cocoon. 

The strands of hair, like separate tiny snakes, edged their way up over her face, sinking into the corners of her eyelids, finding their way to her mouth which opened to scream. They dived downward, driving down her throat.

There was a sudden swishing sound and then the hair seemed to lose its grip. Maggie gasped and gagged, falling to her knees. She raised shaking hands upward, grabbing hold of the chunk of hair that had managed to creep down her throat. She yanked it out, gagging and coughing, gag reflex working overtime, vomiting almost imminent. 

Meanwhile the source of the sound turned to the little girl. Freddy's glove hand twitched, loose hair falling from his grip. Samara's cut hair slowly drew back, until it was its normal length. Freddy was upon her in an instant, hand wrapped around her throat as he slammed her into the nearest wall, pinning her.

"_You dare defy me_." He hissed hotly, spit flying into her face with each word.

Samara's little girl body flushed out, transforming into the teen. She was still in Freddy's grip, her face pure fury, "I knew you wouldn't let me kill her - I knew when the time came you wouldn't be able to go through with it, I knew you'd save-"

"I saved her for me!" He growled, "She's my daughter, my kill"

"Like the others?" Samara spat, "You've killed them all, I haven't killed one and it's almost been seven-"

"Screw your ridiculous mandate!" he bellowed, "I've told you, we're doing things _my_ way, you play along and you'll get your reward soon enough."

"And what might that be?" she scowled, "Life as your slave or death by your claws?"

Freddy's hold on her throat loosened and her hand went to where he had squeezed her, rubbing gently. The unexpected change in his mood confused her as he drew close, dark, grating voice whispering into her ear, "Why should we fight, Samara? I know what you want…"

His scent hit her, making her feel drugged, those light eyes hypnotizing her, "And I _know_ what I want…and we can only get it together…"

His hips lined up perfectly with hers, pushing with such pressure, hands reaching out to run along the front of her body, passing over parts of her that were unexpectantly tender and responsive.

Razors loudly shredded the fabric of her dress and she could feel the metal against her cold skin, so hot, so desirable. A noise she couldn't recognize escaped her throat as his head tiled to one side, tongue lashing out to the pale skin of her neck, fluttering over her pulse and going higher, rotted teeth latching onto her earlobe.

Samara's fingers clawed the material of his sweater, her body bucking forward, enraptured by what was happening, by the heat, when he purred gutturally, "I don't know what I'd like more…to fuck you while you're a little girl or to do it now, when you're like one of those stupid, screaming little teen bitches I normally skewer…"

Something inside Samara flared up at his words. He was trying to distract her - he didn't really want this, he was using this as a form of control. He was trying to make her submit, to dominate her. This epiphany infuriated her and she began to twist in his embrace, trying to pull away.

Freddy merely chuckled, "It's even more fun this way - go ahead and struggle…"

She continued to try and yank out of his arms, head whipping from side to side when she managed to draw up her knee and shove him away. He wheezed out and she drew back, raking a vicious fist along his jaw with a resounding crack.

He fell back, releasing her but his grin merely grew, tongue running along his now busted lip, "Mmm…foreplay."

"Forget it, Krueger! I won't be owned by you! I won't be condemned by you!" The words came out in a fiery explosion as in a flash she seemed to evaporate into thin air.

Freddy cursed, she had found a way to wake herself up with mere thought. That wasn't good news. He heard a noise to his right and turned to see Maggie was slowly rising to her feet. She was groggy and bleary eyed but one thing was clear, she knew what she had saw. The little girl was named Samara and Samara…Samara was Sam. 

The truth was crippling and all she could think of was telling the others but now her father turned her way, face holding wicked contempt, "No hug for Daddy?"

Maggie backed away, wondering what to do as Freddy chuckled, "Katherine, I think it's time we had a heart to heart…"

He plunged his gloved hand into his chest, frowning, "Hmm, I thought that thing was in here somewhere…"

He fiddled around for a few moments more, as if seriously searching, then withdrew his glove, pointing at her, "I guess I'll have to burrow yours…"

Maggie was frozen with fear as her father advanced when suddenly one side of the hall burst, Angela appearing. She leapt forward and took hold of Maggie's arm. Krueger darted forward, not wanting to lose his prey when Angela held up one hand.

He halted, wide eyed to see she was wearing one of his gloves. She sneered, "You remember this?!"

Before he could say anything they both vanished and Krueger rolled his eyes. This was just not his day…

------------------------------

Samara sat up, blinking. Her body felt the last lingering stirs of lust float through - damn, Freddy had gotten her good. But he had merely been playing a part, if she had thought he was genuine…

There was no denying he caused stronger emotions and feelings inside her than anyone else but that didn't change the fact he wanted her to belong to him like some sort of trophy, some pet he could push around. That was not going to happen. No matter what.

She could see that coffee was going to be a big part of her future as another breeze blew, this one heavier than the last. She looked upward and heard a distant rumbling. The sky was pitch black. She opened her mouth, speaking softly to herself, "Storm's coming…"

A honking noise startled her and she saw Will's van driving up. She leapt from the steps and walked over. He popped her door open, "Hey there."

She climbed inside, settling herself in. He looked at her house, "Do you think I should go in and meet your parents?"

"Grandparents," she murmured, "And no, they're…watching TV."

He nodded, "Fair enough…listen, I…uh…I know this is our first time out but," he drew out a long black velvet box, holding it out to her, "I got this for you."

Her eyebrows knitted together as she took the box and cracked it open. Inside was a choker. It was made of bright silver, metal chain links. A thick black suede ribbon weaved in and out of each link, creating a unique appearance. She drew it out, holding it in her fingers. Will blushed, running a hand through his hair, "It's just…you know, for listening to me. For being you."

No one had ever gotten her anything before, not like this. There was almost a twinkle in the dark deep depths of her eyes as she absorbed the shiny piece of jewelry before her with wonder. Her parents had bought her things - material possessions but this…this was different…

"Do you - do you need help putting it on?" Will asked tentatively.

Samara looked at him and nodded her head once. She handed him the choker and lifted her hair into a messy bundle on her head. He drew it around her neck and clasped it. She raised a hand to it, touching the cold metal to the flesh of her throat. The silver contrasted with her pale skin but Will merely looked at her, eyes wide as he breathed, "You look amazing."

The warmth she'd felt in her cheeks the other night returned as she drew away and settled back into her seat. Will cleared his throat, blushing as he directed his eyes to the road, "How about we get going…"

------------------------------

Angela and Maggie both jerked awake, the same name leaving their lips, "Sam!"

"What?" Alice asked, startled. Jacob himself falling back out of his chair in shock at their quick awakening.

"Sam…she's the little girl in the video, Samara…she's in league with my father!" Maggie gasped, "And what they were doing," her face scrunched up in disgust, "It was horrible."

"I - I don't understand, Sam is…"

"A bad guy, Mom, jeez, you don't listen well do you?" Jacob scoffed as he got up and sat near them, "You know, I had a bad feeling about her…"

"But she can't be!" Alice gasped.

"She is, I saw it too," Angela whispered sadly, "She…locked me up, kept me from getting loose while she tortured Maggie, I saw it but I couldn't do anything I was trapped in this place and then she left and it released her hold on me, I got out, grabbed Maggie and just - just thought of waking up and - boom! Here we are…guess I'm an Angel anchor after all."

Alice shook her head forlornly, "Poor Will…"

"Poor Maggie," Jacob emphasized, "If Freddy's with Sam then…you know…ewww."

"Jacob!" his mother cried, "I'm sure it wasn't like that…"

Alice turned to Maggie, a skeptical look on her face; "It wasn't…was it?"

Maggie's face alone caused Alice to turn green, her stomach rolling, "Oh my god…"

"So what now?" Jacob asked.

"Obvious!" Angela hissed as thunder boomed outside, "We go find Will and save him…before it's too late!" 


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Nearing the end at last. I debate whether to post the last two chapters together, I assure you - after you read Chapter 34 you will be dying for Chapter 35, the stunning conclusion. I guess I'll leave it up to majority vote - if you're all about suspense and cliffhangers and want to drag out your enjoyment of this fic as much as possible, let me know - if not, I'll put 'em up together and finish it in one fell swoop.

Thanks to all those who gave me birthday wishes ::hugs:: My BD was great!   


Quick recs: 

Draca's 'Singularity', yes, I've rec'd it before but I'm doing it again! This girl deserves the attention and so does this awesome piece of work.

Pmad – 'NOES 6: Dark Relevations' – Pmad does a story with Alice! Maggie is in there too though – she is, after all, the Maggie queen.

So many more – aw gawd – I want to pimp/rec everyone but I'm reaching the end and can only do so many – this is, in fact, probably the last chapter I'll do it on – I don't want things to slow down an inch in the next following chapters – they are fast paced and should be read as such! 

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: VIOLENCE/DEATH/GORE

WARNING: DISTURBING IMAGERY

------------------------------

Chapter 33

The dreamscape had once again been changed by its master's whim, transforming into a desolate canyon. Jagged rocks and crevasses ran from end to endless end, resembling the Grand Canyon. Vultures soared over head, cawing, some swooping down to feed on the dead carcasses that rested at the bottom of the ravine.

The carcass' resembled past victims that had fallen thanks to Krueger. One pecked at a cadaver resembling Lori, plucking her eye out to swallow down its gullet. Others drove sharp beaks into Nancy Thompson's soft middle and yet others feasted on Jesse Walsh.

High above them, crouched down was Freddy Krueger himself, overlooking their actions from the edge of a cliff. Lightening flashed between thick cumulus clouds clumped together in the dark sky, thunder rumbling as if to perfectly reflect the Dream Stalker's mood.

He leaned back on his haunches, razor fingers tapping up and down rhythmically where they rested on his kneecap. 

At this moment he should have been overjoyed. He'd killed so many - including Doc and Lori, two of his oldest enemies. He'd managed to strike fear into the hearts of many and the deaths of his other victims was within his grasp. Everything was falling into place and victory was so close-

But all his thoughts revolved around was her.

Samara.

He could feel her slipping. She'd actually had the gall to attack him! Worse, to reject him! True, he'd merely been playing with her, teasing, but she had taken it seriously. Reacted like a…human.

He had to admit - however, that he felt some small, begrudging respect at her actions.

She was no fool. She had recognized his ruse - realizing it was another attempt to control her.

After all - sex, lust, desire - what gave you more power than that? He would have had her - crawling on her knees, begging for attention - _his_ attention. Desperate, starving for a small piece of physical contact from him…

But she had seen through it, fought it, denied it -

In fact, the whole scenario had reversed on to him. He wanted her now more than ever. She was his! HIS! When would she see this?!

A growl escaped the Dream Killer's throat and he catapulted himself to his feet. He hated to examine his obsession with the girl. His attachment to her was…uncharacteristic. Unnatural. But he refused to lose another ally - to lose her. Especially her. He wasn't going to lose her to these bastards, that much was for sure. Either she'd come around or he'd kill her.

But then her voice came to him, unbidden, something she had said long ago:

__

Can you go through with it?

He scowled, his thoughts flickering over their close encounters. Shit, he could still taste her on his tongue…

__

Enough thinking! His thoughts thundered, _time for some screaming…_

------------------------------

The road was slick with rain as the clouds burst, lightning zig-zagging across the sky. The wind ripped viciously along the sides of Alice's car as she drove as fast as she could, her eyes casting to the backseat where Maggie and Angela sat, "Are you sure this is a good idea, Angela?"

"You all said you've been trying to call Will for hours-"

Maggie interrupted, cell glued to her ear, "I'm _still_ trying and getting no answer." 

Angela continued, nodding, "So the best thing to do is go to the school. I can pull up his file on my computer, find out where his dorm is and we can go from there."

"Yeah Mom, maybe they'll even be someone there who knows where he went."

"What about Sam? Maybe we should just confront her-"

Jacob let out a breath, "She wasn't very confiding to begin with, Mom. We don't know where she lives either and it would be stupid to go toe to toe with Freddy's accomplice right now. We need to get Will, regroup, come up with a plan-"

"We're running out of time for plans! We have to do something and we have to do it now," Angela muttered.

Maggie suddenly narrowed her eyes, turning to the brunette, "You know, Angela, I've been meaning to ask you what the hell you thought you were doing in the dreamscape."

She blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Oh come on!" the other woman barked, "The glove! Why we're you trying to provoke him?! He's dangerous, he doesn't need…and Angela, for god's sake you were wearing the glove and brandishing it around like - like…"

"You were wearing the glove?!" Jacob gasped.

"In the dreamscape," Maggie confirmed, "When she came to save me she was wearing it"

"I could wear it now," She drew it out of her purse and holding it out for their view, "See?"

"Jesus Christ! Put that thing away!" 

"No! I'm not afraid of it like the rest of you, it's been in my possession for a very long time!"

"Angela, please, this isn't-"

"What?!" She hissed, "Healthy? No maybe not but who gives a shit! Maybe I went a bit overboard back there but I want this son of a bitch to know I'm coming for him!"

"Angela, you can't fight him…not like this…not with that." Alice said calmly, trying to defuse the situation.

"I know, fighting him physically won't work but mentally-"

"What? You think showing him his own glove will knock him off balance! All it's going to do rile him up, he'll go after you-"

"Too late! He's all ready after me! He started this, not me! Fear powers him? Then I'm not going to be afraid! This glove - his glove - the one he used to kill my brother - is the key. This fucking thing is a symbol of power - his power and I'm not afraid to wield it because I know it's going to be his fucking downfall, I know it. _I know it_."

Maggie and Alice exchanged a look, both obviously thinking the guidance counselor was more off balanced than they had realized when Jacob shook his head, mumbling under his breath, "Freddy and Sam..."

Alice overheard and rolled her eyes, "Would you get off of that?"

"I still can't believe it…"

"Why not? Even Chucky got lucky." Alice cracked and Jacob turned to his mom wide eyed at her pop culture reference. She saw the look and couldn't help but giggle as they turned into the school parking lot.

They all piled out of the car. The rain had died off but left everything soaked and slippery as the foursome dashed towards the administrative building. Jacob was following up behind them when suddenly his sneaker slid against the slick pavement, causing him to pitch backward and hit his head.

Alice turned and screamed in terror. Maggie and Angela turned also, startled by the other woman's outcry when they saw the cause. The women went to Jacob's side, falling to their knees. Alice's hands were shaking as she reached for her son, lifting him in her arms, shaking him as she sobbed his name over and over.

She drew her hand out from behind his scalp and found it covered in crimson blood, her sobs grew worse, "Nooo! Jesus, no! Jacob! JACOB!"

Maggie pulled off her suit jacket and bundled it up, placing it on the ground under his head, "Here, lay him back down..."

"Jacob…" Alice moaned, still clutching her son's body close.

"ALICE! Do it!" Maggie shouted.

The horrified mother obeyed, laying her son back onto the jacket and still clinging to him tightly, "My boy, my boy, my baby boy…"

"Is he going to be all right?!" Angela asked.

"I don't know!" Maggie bit out, "He's bleeding - we need an ambulance, he could have head trauma…"

"Freddy!" Alice suddenly screeched, her tear blurred eyes wide with sudden clarity, "He could get him! Jacob's out - he could be dreaming…"

"Alice," Maggie insisted steely, "We need to call 911-"

"We need to save my son!" she bellowed, "We need to wake him up! We need-"

"Go in after him," Angela breathed, "Go after him, Alice! You're an Angel, an anchor, you have the power to pull him out-"

"You two are out of your minds!" Maggie shouted, "This is a medical emergency, we need a fucking ambulance!"

"Then make the call!" Angela cried angrily at her, "But while you do that Alice can go in and protect her son! We can't gamble on what could kill Jacob first this fall or your father!"

Maggie looked livid but Alice was nodding madly, "Yes, yes I have to go in, save my baby…but how I can't - I can't fall asleep on command…"

Angela looked around, trying to find something heavy. Her eyes landed on the front door of the Administrative office where a groundskeeper had left a rake leaned against the building. She rushed over, grabbing it and returned to Alice.

She took hold of the lower half, making sure only the wooden shaft faced forward. She drew it back like a baseball bat, feeling the adrenaline race through her as she said gruffly, "Then we'll put you to sleep."

With that she delivered a forceful blow to the back of Alice's head, knocking her out. Maggie's eyes were wild as she rose to her feet and slapped the other woman across the face, "Are you crazy?! Why did you-"

"It was the only way!" Angela bit out, hand raised to rub her stinging cheek.

"But now we have _two_ people with possible-"

"I told you, call the ambulance then! But at least now they have a fighting chance in the dreamscape!"

"If they're dreaming!" Maggie hissed, eyes narrowed and cold, "If you didn't just kill them…"

------------------------------

Will kept looking over at Samara, she caught this and her eyebrows knitted together, "What?"

"Nothing…it's nothing it's just…you look really good tonight."

Samara looked down. She was once again wearing what she had worn to the club, her dark hair still streaked with vibrant red, she frowned, "I…didn't get a chance to buy much clothes since leaving Westin."

Will shook his head, "You misunderstood me. I like that outfit. You could wear it everyday and look good, you could wear anything and look good, you just…look good."

Samara's brow was still furrowed and he swallowed, blushing, "I - I'm sorry. I'm not very good with words."

She looked down at her feet, her own cheeks tinged pink, "Neither am I."

He sighed, "I…guess I'm just nervous."

"About this?"

"About you," he whispered, his eyes turning her way again, "You make me nervous…because I like you."

The pink on her cheeks blossomed to red and Samara felt her lips twitching, almost as if wanting to smile. This boy was stupid. But he was sweetly so.

Will had begun searching his pockets during the drive and a frown began to form, "Where…"

"What's wrong?"

"I can't seem to find my wallet," he muttered, turning red again but for a new reason now. He ran a hand through his hair, looking rather sheepish, "I hope you don't mind…I mean is it okay for me to run by the college and-"

Samara merely nodded and he let out a breath, "Thanks, I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Samara said with a shrug.

They turned a particularly sharp corner as they got closer to the school and the van's tires squealed against the wet pavement, slipping slightly. Will gripped tightly to the wheel, "Whoa!"

Not having fastened her seatbelt, Samara pitched to one side, bumping into Will. He managed to get control of the van again, slowly pulling it into the college parking lot.

He pulled the van to a stop and shut off the engine but didn't move another muscle, his jaw tight, heart throbbing in his ears. He could feel the soft weight of Samara's body pressed so close to his, smell her hair, feel her breath on his skin. 

Samara moved slowly too, as she sat up, her hand brushing his. Will turned his head cautiously, looking at her. Their faces were only inches apart. His eyes caught on the choker he'd given her, the silver sparkling, then they moved upward, falling on her lips.

He swallowed and looked into her eyes, the dark bottomless depths. Those eyes…

He couldn't even begin to explain what they did to him, he felt captivated and they were just so…familiar. He raised his hand and let the back of his fingers gently brushed her cheek, feeling the damp soft skin, letting it drift down to pass her neck, threading through a few silky strands of her hair.

He inched closer, bringing his mouth in proximity of hers. They were both bearly breathing, focused in solely on this moment. Their eyes met once more and then his lips lightly caressed hers.

A scream tore through the night air and they broke apart swiftly. Will's heart was pounding and his breath came out in whoosh as his chest rose and fell, voice startled, "What was that?!"

He turned and looked at her. She merely shrugged and he opened his door hastily, "We better find out."

------------------------------

Alice opened her eyes to see she was in front of 1428 Elm Street, she shuddered, she had hoped to never see that house again. She looked around, frantic, "Jacob! Jacob!"

There was no answer and Alice frowned but stood up straight, determined as she bellowed the name that at one point she couldn't even bear to think, "Krueger!"

No answer.

"KRUEGER!"

Still nothing. Alice started to walk around, continuing to cry out his name, she searched around, even going inside the loathed house but found nothing. Finally she stopped trying to call him out, speaking in a normal volume, "I know you can hear me, Freddy. I know you're out there. You're trying to scare me, but it's not going to work. I've defeated you twice before and as far as I'm concerned, third time's a charm."

Alice heard a noise behind her and reacted, turning swiftly, making sure to take the proper martial arts stance. A cat ran out from behind the house, scampering off into the distance. She watched it leave, still in fighting stance, waiting, anticipating…

She felt breath on the back of her neck and turned quickly. Nothing there. She took in a deep breath, "Come on you bastard…make your move…"

A voice came from overhead, _You actually think you can fight me? _

Alice turned from side to side, looking around but saw no one. It was almost as if he had spoken inside her mind. She grinned, "I won't just fight you, I'll beat you."

__

Really?

"Like I said, I've done it before, I'll do it again. I'm not afraid anymore, Freddy. I'm not scared. I grew up. I'm an adult now and I know the truth, about the Dream Angels…I know I'm one of them and you have my son and I want him back. Let him go or better yet, stop being a coward and face me!"

There was a brief silence and Alice waited. A twig snapped behind her. She turned, letting out a cry as she delivering a high powered roundhouse to the person behind her.

Freddy stumbled backwards at the attack. Alice took his momentary loss of balance and turned it to her advantage, delivering a series of blows - kicks, jabs, and punches landing all over him. He didn't fight back, either overwhelmed by the ferocity of her onslaught or unprepared for the martial arts maneuvers she executed.

Every time he raised his hands to possibly counter she deflected it, retaliating with more. Eventually he collapsed to the ground but she did not stop, did not let up. Instead she continued to strike him, beyond reason, beyond sanity. She wanted to kill him, crush him, beat him to death…

He would not kill again! He would not touch her son! He would not-

"Mom!"

Alice turned and saw Jacob emerge from the house.

"Jacob!" she cried, she left Freddy, rushing to her son to give him a bone-crushing hug, "Jacob, Jacob, thank God I was so worried…"

"Mom," Jacob hugged her back tightly.

Freddy slowly uncurled from the heap on the ground, spitting out blood. He turned and saw Alice and Jacob embracing. His eyes widened and he shook his head, "No, no…"

"I love you, Jacob," Alice whispered, tearing rolling down her cheeks, "I love you so much…"

Freddy got to his feet, clutching his side, head shaking, eyes still wide as he tried to catch his breath, gasping over and over with panic in his voice, "No, no…"

"I love you too, Mom," Jacob whispered smiling.

"No," Freddy cried, reaching a hand out, voice breaking as he screamed, "MOM!"

Alice turned to Freddy startled. In an instant the Jacob in her arms transformed into Freddy and the Freddy she had just beaten turned into her son. She suddenly realized her deadly mistake, the switch dawning on her as Freddy held her close, still smiling, "If you're an angel…"

He drew back his gloved hand, "I'll send you to heaven!"

He drove his claws deep into her.


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: Here we are…the end….

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: GORE/VIOLENCE/DEATH

------------------------------

Chapter 34

"NOOO!" Jacob howled as Freddy drove his razor gloved hand deep into Alice, running her completely through.

"_Aha-hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha_!" Freddy cackled as he watched one of his oldest enemies' die by his glove.

Blood erupted from her wound, splattering to the ground. She gasped, more crimson liquid pouring from her mouth. She blinked and moved stiffly, turning to look into the face of her killer, eyes glazed with agony.

Freddy pulled her close, a mockery of the loving embrace that had led to her downfall. His hideous mouth brushed the skin of her ear as he whispered, "Let me tell you a little secret…you're not the anchor."

His eyes turned to Jacob and Alice felt not only pain but realization rush through her as she looked at her son. 

__

Jacob.

__

Jacob was the Angel.

Not her…not her…

Freddy laughed again and withdrew his claws, tossing Alice's body aside. Jacob rushed to his mother, all ready sobbing as he cradled her close to him, "Mom, mom…"

She looked up at him, her hand carelessly drifting up to touch his face. He rocked her, begging mindlessly, "Please Mom, please…don't do this…I need you …"

He couldn't even say it all, there wasn't enough time.

__

Don't leave me//Don't go//Don't die//Be strong//Fight

I love you.

All these words passed through his mind but not all of them were said as he held his dying mother close. She smiled weakly, "Jacob …"

"Mom…"

"You're - Angel, Jacob, anchor…get out…save your…I'll - I'll watch over…" she kept trying to talk but each breath became more labored, more difficult.

Jacob shook his head, sniffling, tears and snot falling from his face as he cried. He tried to wipe it away with the sleeve of his shirt, "Mom, please…I can't…"

"Jacob…you're the Angel…"

Jacob shook his head sadly, "No, Mom…you are…you are…"

Alice Johnson took one finally breath and then her hand fell from her son's face. Jacob let out an anguished wail that filled the dreamscape. His mother was gone.

"Hey, you done crying, boy?" Freddy asked, rubbing one hand on his sweater, bored.

Jacob let Alice go and rose to his feet, turning to face the murderer of his uncle, his father, and now his mother. He was shaking with rage, hysterical as he shook his head, speaking through clenched teeth, "You…you…"

"Son of a Hundred Maniacs? Dream Stalker? Nightmare Man? Great looking guy?" Freddy supplied, his face full of elated joy.

Jacob let out an insane roar and tackled Freddy to the ground, his fingers curling into clawed fists in the material of his sweater, clutching tightly to him. His eyes glowed madly as he hissed, "You're coming with me!"

------------------------------

Will and Samara found the source of the scream. Maggie and Angela were both bent over Alice and Jacob's bodies which lay perfectly still next to one another. Will saw them and ran over, "My god, what happened?!"

"Will!" Maggie shrieked, elated as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, drawing him close.

Samara walked over but Angela drew out Freddy's glove, quickly strapping it on and pointing it at the girl as she approached, eyes narrowed threateningly, "Stay right where you are!"

Will pulled from Maggie's grip, furious, "Angela?! What are you doing! That's Sam!"

"No, that's Samara!" Angela scowled, "Freddy's concubine!"

"WHAT?" Will asked, his tone colored with disbelief.

"Will, you have to believe us…Sam is not who she seems, her real name is Samara, she's working with Freddy, she's the girl from the video!" Maggie said desperately.

"Th - that's impossible…" Will whispered but then he thought of her eyes, dark, bottomless, and that vacant face …just like the little girl in the video. How she had always seemed so bizarrely familiar. He looked at her; it was like a piece falling into place, but still he wanted to deny it, "Sam…tell them…"

She looked at him, then at Angela, she moved forward but Angela slashed the glove through the air, face deadly, "Don't even think about it!"

Samara continued to look at Will, her mouth slowly working, "Will…"

The moment was broken by a horrible noise. Maggie screamed as Alice's body bucked slightly and her middle exploded, blood rising like a fountain from her. Angela dropped her hand, turning her attention away from Samara and to her friends.

No longer holding her at bay, Samara moved towards Will, who did the same. Meanwhile Alice fell back and her eyes opened, she turned to Maggie and Angela. 

She whispered only once, "Jacob."

The two women turned to Jacob who not only awoke with a jolt but had Freddy with him. Jacob released the maniac and planted a square kick to his stomach, tossing him aside. He scrambled to his feet, going over to Maggie and Angela. Everyone froze as Freddy stood.

He looked around and sniffed the night air, snarling. He'd been taken out of the dreamscape. He was in the real world. _Again_. He turned and looked at the pack of humans - his victims_. His children._

This wasn't exactly how he would have liked it but it would have to do for now. He licked his lips and moved his claw from one to the other as if counting them, "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe - which one of you is next to go?"

His eyes landed on Will, who was singled out as he had had yet to walked over to Samara. Freddy chuckled darkly, "I think you're 'it', pretty boy."

Will's eyes widened as the Nightmare Man began to stalk towards him when suddenly Samara stepped out in front of his path. He sneered at her, "What do you think you're doing?!"

Samara did not move and Freddy growled, "Get out of my way!"

She looked him in the eye, "No."

"You," he drew out, his anger reaching its peak, "ungrateful bitch!"

He lashed out, his razors tearing across her cheek. He slashed again, this time striking her arm, "I taught you everything you know!"

He kept pushing her backward, slashing away, hitting her in various spots, blood spraying into the air, "And this is how you repay me!"

Finally her back met with the brick wall of the Administrative Office building and he had her cornered. He was about to deliver another devastating blow when his eye caught the glint coming off her choker. 

He paused, "What have we here?"

This time he delicately ran his razor fingers over her flesh, curving them under it, "This doesn't look like nothing."

Freddy's face was vicious, jaw set and it was obvious he was awaiting an explanation. He stared at it then at her, then to Will, then at her again, particularly her face. A look filled his eyes that was unidentifiable. Because it had never been there before.

His voice was icy cold, "Oh I see."

He moved the claws upward and with a swift jerk the choker snapped, falling apart to hit the ground. Samara looked down at the destroyed jewelry. It had been her present from Will. The one thing some one had given to her because they unconditionally cared for her. It had been special. It had been destroyed. By Freddy.

Before he could even think to strike again, Samara raised a hand and a mighty torrent of water shot out, thrusting him backwards with bone breaking force. He went flying for several feet, landing in the middle of the Quad.

Angela, Will, Maggie, and Jacob - who had backed away from the fight, were also in this picturesque part of the campus, all four of them struck dumb with horror, shock, and awe. They watched, as Samara seemed to float forward. There was a loud rumbling sound beneath their feet and the ground began to shake - tremors ripping through the landscape. 

The group huddle together as the earthquake continued and all the while Samara floated closer and closer as if in a trance. The rumbling beneath the ground exploded loudly all around them as separate dark, filthy water geysers erupted up from beneath the earth's crust, rising miles into the air. It soon became apparent that the water geysers were in fact perfectly plotted around the Quad, forming a circle - a ring.

And inside the ring stood the foursome as well as Freddy, who was feebly getting to his feet. Samara walked into the ring and another quake followed, this one just as teeth jarring as the first but instead fire burst up from the ground. 

The flames rose into the air, coiling around each geyser, creating a rather interesting sort of fence around the ring. Freddy looked at her display and jeered, "Fancy waterworks isn't going to frighten me, _Dollface_."

The fire behind him bellowed more hungrily, even as it continued to dance around the water. He looked at that too, then back at her once more, "Fire doesn't scare me either."

"Who said I wanted to scared you?" she asked quietly, "I want to _kill_ you."

With that said a powerful roar filled the night air as another riptide of water burst forth, this one picking up Samara. She rode the wave, forcing the flow downward. Freddy didn't even have a chance to move before the water picked him up as if he were nothing but an insignificant bath toy.

He slashed wildly within the water but was unable to break himself free from its grip as Samara guided them to the large tree she had once slept under - the one where Disher had hit on her. She rode the waves around the tree, making sure Freddy's body slammed painfully into various limbs and the base of the trunk periodically.

Each impact was tangibly felt by everything around it. The foursome below even winced at each violent hit. They continued their trip upward until they had scoured every inch of the tree, going around the entire thing before ascending up higher, shooting into the sky. The dark clouds took them out of view and the humans below tilted their heads back, watching the spot where they were last seen.

"Are they…gone?" Maggie whispered.

Her question was soon answered as a sound similar to a train pulling into station filled the air. The riptide came screaming back down and Freddy's body could bearly be seen inside the large swirling vortex of water. It almost seemed to form a fist as it unmercifully pile drove him into the ground.

Samara came down easily, landing on her feet. Her hair hid her face as she walked steadily over to where Freddy had landed. He raised a weary gloved hand and pulled himself up. He was encrusted in a layer of mud, soaked from head to toe. His entire body ached and he turned to her, defiant still, sneering as he mumbled, "Best you can do?"

She did not answer.

"All this…over a goddamn trinket?" he spat, "All this over a boy?"

"A boy?" Samara asked and this time her voice was completely different - more disembodied. She sounded like she did when she had first emerged from the well except more powerful, the static a soft whisper beneath, "It has nothing to do with him! This has to do with you and me, Krueger. When we first met I balked at your implications that you wanted to have me as your very own, that I was _yours_. I am not some weak-minded follower who clings to your every word, who obeys your every whim. I have only followed along this far to learn, to gain experience - I grow tired of this charade!"

As Freddy moved closer her stature became more rigid, she confidently continued, "Through this body I have experienced more than I ever thought possible…by remaining with you I would have to give it up. You expect me to leave this body and return to the cold, nothingness of death? NEVER!"

Freddy and Samara were so distracted with each other they didn't even notice the humans to the sidelines. Will's eyes were locked on Samara and Maggie kept trying to talk to him. Jacob himself was bearly leashed by Maggie who held steadfastly to the collar of his shirt, knowing he was eager to attack his mother's killer.

Being so preoccupied with both boys, Maggie did not see Angela move until it was too late. The brunette ran and with quick precision, tackling Freddy to the ground. The mud beneath them splashed upward as they fell. Angela still wore Freddy's glove and used it to strike, fingers jabbing in like needles, sinking into his shoulder.

He cried out, then back handed her across the face. As her head whipped to one side he kicked her off of him. She landed back roughly and he crawled over her, grabbing her hair in both fists as he slammed her skull down. The earth was so saturated that the impact was softer than usual but it still stung, white flashing before her vision. 

While she was out of it he removed the glove with quick fingers, "I'll take that!"

He was clutching tightly to it when Samara's voice rung out, "ENOUGH!"  


Another blast of water hit Freddy, knocking him off Angela, tossing him backwards and into the base of the tree again. Angela rolled about slowly, dizzy. Will finally moved, rushing to her side. Maggie continued to grip to an ever-struggling Jacob as she called out to him, trying to get him to come back.

Samara's blast continued its pelting flow, plastering Freddy to the tree; "You have always underestimated me, Krueger. I _never_ needed you_. _You needed me. My strength! MY POWER! And yet you dare assume you can be _my_ master? _You are nothing! _"

Her tone was triumphant, half-mad, "And now it is time to finish this…"

Samara's long dark hair flew back, revealing her face. It seemed to almost glow, bright energy crackling around her as she let go, allowing her power to flow free at full force. It was breathtaking. Beautiful. Frightening. 

Her deathly pale skin was covered in thick, pulsing veins that grouped closely together. Freddy could see it even through the hail of water and for a split second he was stunned. _She looks just like me._

He continued to struggle futilely against the water, which pushed against him as if a clawed hand. She approached him slowly and he felt the water work away at the glove he held - Angela's glove. It broke lose, falling into the flow.

The waves filtered it back to Samara and under her command fitted it onto her. She raised her newly gloved hand for his view, even as the other continued to make sure water pulsed forward. Her eyes transformed, turning from dark and bottomless to white and ghastly.

Freddy growled, "Your death glare don't work on me, remember?"

"Oh that?" she asked with a self-satisfied smirk, remembering when they had first met, "I wasn't even trying."

The center of Samara's eyes changed and it was impossible to describe as the look of contempt, of utter hatred shown through and lashed out at Freddy, sinking deep into his mind. Freddy howled in agony as she began to tear away at his mind, millions of images flashed before him uncontrollably.

__

Fucking mind witch, his thoughts hissed as she continued her onslaught, bringing its intensity up to such a point that he could not muster one cohesive thought. She walked towards him, water dying as she grew inches away, eyes still locked with his as her telepathic torture continued.

Black blood was leaking liberally from his nose and eyes as he sputtered. She drew her gloved hand back and with a great deal of relish drove it into him. He gagged as his own glove pegged him to the tree. He looked down, seeing it there and scowled, "Not again."

Samara was soon distracted from her victory as dim voices behind her caught her attention.

__

Are you all right? 

Will asked Angela as his hands gently cupped her face. Her eyes opened, cloudy, the first thing she saw was his face above her.

Ohhh…Will?

Yeah…it's me.

He helped her sit up, eyes on her, hands moving gracefully to her shoulders.

Will, Sam…

I know.

I'm sorry.

So am I.

Oh Will…

Samara turned and saw Angela and Will embrace. Her death glare stopped, her hold on Freddy released, face returning to normal as she whispered, "Will?"

Freddy moved swiftly then, his razor fingers slamming into her gut. Samara let out a cry, body bowing under the hit. Blood gushed from where he had impaled her. Freddy chuckled darkly, "Lover boy, betray you?"

Samara's lips flapped silently.

"Betrayed you like you did me, hmm?" he coughed and spit out some blood.

Samara's eyes turned back to Freddy's and one single tear escaped. She withdrew her hand from her glove, leaving it inside him while simultaneously drawing out Freddy's claws from inside her by backing away. 

Once she was free she fell to the ground. She clutched her stomach as crimson fluid continued to pour forth. She moved slowly, painfully, crawling to the other side of the tree away from everyone. She rested back against it, closing her eyes.

Freddy grunted as he took hold of the glove rammed into him. He started to twist it free from the bark of the tree where it had been deeply embedded. Once that was done he withdrew it from himself, tossing it aside.

He clutched to his own wounded abdomen as he moved around the base of the tree to where Samara sat. He fell to his knees, near her, cursing in gasps, "Fuck…all this for…nothing…got fucking start all over and it's all your goddamn fault!"

"No…" she whimpered weakly, "No…not over, you - you will live on…"

"What?!" He snarled.

"I'll…draw you," she panted quietly, "I'll fall asleep and draw you into my dreams before I…die. You will be healed in the dreamscape…live, not - not go to hell…dreamscape…you'll be safe…find fear again…live…"

Freddy frowned. This was impossible! Mere minutes ago she had become his enemy - turning on him, fighting him, _killing_ him and now she wanted to save him?! 

Freddy was unused to people offering him help for free and his eyes narrowed at her suspiciously, "Why would you-"

"Someone has to kill them," she answered simply, "If not me, then you…"

Freddy squirmed, uncomfortable with this act of self-sacrifice. Normally he would not care but for some reason this struck him in a most unpleasant way. He now found himself faced with an unexpected internal struggle. He was at war with his need to cause death against a need to repay the person who was helping him…

He did _kind_ of owe her.

Samara _was_ responsible for a lot…

And she _was_ powerful…

He _could_ still use her for his own gain, his own advantage…

He frowned, not happy as he said gruffly, "You….don't have to die. If you drew me into the dreamscape before your body dies I could…you know…" he moved his head side to side, feeling disgusted even as he said it, "Grab hold of you and keep you in the dreamscape with me."

She looked at him, the bottom of her eyes showing a glimmer of emotion, "You'd do that for me?"

He answered with a series of grunts and grumbles - it was obvious this whole thing was really embarrassing him. Even close to death, his pride stuck out. Samara merely gave a soft smile as an answer, "Okay."

"Partners again, huh?" he muttered.

She shrugged, then nodded. Freddy inched forward, raising up his glove one more time. With the last of his strength he drove it back into her. She cried out once more as he pushed it in deeply, so far inside that their bodies pressed together, his mouth near her ear, "I've wanted to do this for a long time…"

He pressed his ear between her breasts and listened with satisfaction as her heartbeat grew more lethargic. Samara could feel herself falling into slumber, sleep and death both dragging at her senses. But she raised up one hand, resting it against Freddy, easing him closer to her.

She absorbed his heat, the feel of him…

He moved his claws inside her and she could feel them, so very deep, near her heart. A quiet moan of pleasure left her and she found herself thinking back to the first time she had been in his boiler room. She had been clutching to the doll he had given her and thinking about life, about people, about love.

She had thought love to be dead - to not be real.

But now she knew better.

There was such a thing as love.

And this was it.


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue.

Author's Notes: 

More warnings…

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

------------------------------

Chapter 35

The water geysers and their dancing flames died swiftly. Angela was still in Will's arms as Maggie and Jacob walked over. Jacob's eyes kept casting over to the tree. He could vaguely see Samara and Freddy's dead bodies huddled against it. He saw they were in each others arms much like Will and Angela were.

Then they both suddenly changed before his eyes - Freddy bursting into flames, quickly reducing himself to ash and Samara melting into water, sinking into the ground.

He shuddered in disgust, tongue sticking out, "What was all that about?"

"I'm not sure," Maggie mummered, deep in thought, "My only guess is from what Samara eluded to. She…possessed that girl. She kept referring to 'the body', making me think she-"

"She was Rebecca Kotler," Will spoke up, voice sad, "That's what the teacher said when he introduced her. Sam…Samara corrected us, told us her name was Sam…I'll bet Rebecca was the girl she possessed."

Maggie nodded, "Makes sense, I think she may have been some sort of spirit that made a pact with Freddy but by inhabiting a body she was host to exhilarating feelings, emotions - things she had never experienced before. It caused her to question Freddy, turn on him - she didn't want to be his puppet."

"She did go on about how she didn't want to be owned…" Angela whispered.

Jacob wasn't finished with the questions, "But the water? The fire? How did she-"

"I don't know," Maggie sighed, "But I think we had better find out."

"Why? They're dead."

She shook her head, "You should know by now that Freddy is never dead. Only delayed a while. We still have to find a way to put my Father down. For good." 

"Samara too." Angela added determinedly.

"Whoa, wait…" Will protested, releasing Angela, "Sam…Samara, she saved us! Why would-"

"Will, I'm sorry but Samara is evil, okay? She's with Freddy. She's helping him." Maggie insisted.

"But - but you don't know her…what she's like," Will whispered, "When we were together she was-"

"It was all lies, dude, she played you!" Jacob grumbled.

"But-"

"I'm sorry, Will, but Jacob's right. You have to accept it. Samara is no good and she has to be stopped." Angela said as she and Will rose to their feet.

He didn't answer, instead looking off into the distance. Angela gave him a little hug and Maggie sighed, "Come on guys, this is far from over."

------------------------------

Freddy opened one eye wearily. He wondered if he'd actually see anything or if the darkness of Hell would greet him. Instead he found himself out front of 1428 Elm. Both eyes opened and he ran his hands over himself. He was home! He was in the Dreamscape. Samara had done it!

He let out a relieved breath and looked around, wondering where she was. He saw no one and frowned. Had he been unable to pull her through? Shit! The one time he actually tried to do something somewhat decent and-

Samara landed in a heap next to him. She was once again a little girl. She rose to her feet groggily. Freddy walked away from her, seating himself on the one unbroken part of banister surrounding 1428's porch.

The first thing that occurred to Samara as her senses came around was that she felt -

Free.

Right.

It was like the past few days had never happened. She was no longer mired with murky confusion. Her thoughts were clear and open. She felt whole. A few blinks. The human feelings she had had were gone. Even thinking of Will conjured nothing inside of her. She was disconnected, just as she had been before.

Her little head turned and she saw Freddy looking down at her from his perch. He sighed and it was obvious he didn't know what to say. While he had never trusted her, their last battle and her traitorous actions stung in their own right. But then they had saved each other, and now…

Samara spoke first, her voice broadcasting in his head, "Why did you bring me back?" 

Freddy's frown deepened. He was surprised to discover he actually had missed this particular form of communication with her. The moment the static encrusted telepathy entered his mind it felt as if it had found something that had been lost. This was an unpleasant insight.

And her question caused another look between discomfort and disgust to cross his face. He didn't know what to say. He refused to admit that he had grown something of a begrudging respect for her. 

After all, the power she had shown in the outside world had been impressive, as well as the continued control she was growing over the dreamscape - like the trick she'd pulled on Maggie, that may have been unwanted at the time but that didn't make it any less impressive.

But he'd never admit he enjoyed her company. And he would _never_ say he liked her. 

At last he said, "I can use some help killing."

"Thought you wanted to do it all on your own. No sidekicks."

"Just shut up and be grateful."

Samara nodded, then added quietly, "Thank you. For sparing me."

Freddy merely growled low in his throat, eyes directed away from her. Silence would have been dominant if she hadn't decided to continue the flow of communication, murmuring, "So - are you going to punish me?"

He didn't answer or look at her, "I mean, you don't forgive and forget…"

Freddy's thoughts rolled through his head and he sneered, settling on, "You fucked up. Don't do it again."

She had the strangest feeling this was his form of saying he accepted some sort of unspoken apology from her. So then, things were back to normal. Or at least as normal as it could be between a psychotic dream killer and a child who spread about a seven day curse and crawled out of television sets. 

Still, something troubled her, this whole situation and his actions, so uncharacteristic of him, and then it hit her…

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at him; "You were married."

Freddy's posture became rigid.

"You had a child."

His head twisted in her direction, jaw clenched, ticking with bearly leashed fury but she did not react to this, instead she seemed almost melancholy, "You're not forgiving or forgetting, you're…understanding…"

He hissed, obviously trying to release the pent up anger inside of him. She licked her lips, then pressed them together tightly to form a line, nodding her head, "Now I see. When you were alive-"

Freddy cut her off, taking over the inevitable, telling story of truth, "When you have a body you do stupid, stupid shit. You're part of the world so you do what everyone tells you, what society dictates, even if you don't agree with their goddamn mandates! Being alive - emotions, feelings - fucking weaknesses. Humanity is a bitch!"

Samara nodded, then whispered, "Do you remember-"

"Every moment," he snarled, "Loretta…snooping whore - when she was pregnant all I ever thought about was splitting her wide open, letting that seed slip out with her entrails…"

"So…you figure there's no point in punishing me or fighting me as you know it's pointless considering all we've been through. Instead you've decided to overlook my betrayal, chalk it up as me losing myself in foolish human emotions thanks to the body I have now lost. You knew once it was gone I'd return to normal and now you and I can work together quite nicely again. In other words, you can be taught," Samara mumbled under her breath with a slight smirk.

He merely shrugged, "I've been around for far too long not to learn a trick or two. My survival depends on it, though now I do have to start all over thanks to your 'episode'."

"Not exactly," Her smirk grew into a full-fledged twisted smile, "You help me, I help you. If you let me, I can get you all the fear you need. No setbacks. After all, my original tape is still out there, filtering around from victim to victim. And I imagine a few of them have reached their seven day limit…I could let you handle them. If you'd like."

Freddy's eyes landed on her as she put her hands behind her back and swayed from side to side enticingly. He felt satisfaction flood him, "All right…let's try things _your_ way."

He lowered himself from the banister and turned to walk inside when he heard a voice behind him, a distinctly older voice, "Oh Freddy…"

Once more he looked at her and saw she had changed into her teenage form. While having lost the body, she could still retain the image of being 'Becca'. No, never Becca again nor ever 'Sam' again, but Samara. 

She looked at him, dark bottomless eyes almost twinkling as she purred, "Remember how many times I've only given you a mere taste of me? Saying you can't touch me…do anything without my permission?"

She opened her arms, "Well now you have it."

An instant shaft of lust burst inside him at her offer. He looked at that body - lush and full. Looked at those lips he had never entered. Always so close yet so far away. Always taunting him, teasing him - making him want. 

He knew now what he had just started to realize when ever he'd been thinking over her, over his obsession with her…

She had charmed him, enraptured him…

He was as much hers as she was his. The control over her he had so long been seeking to have had been found, set, but in the process he had trapped himself as well. At last, she was _his_. But he was _hers_. They were both equal. The same. One.

"Claim your prize - you've earned it." She whispered, voice breathy with desire as he drew closer, the heat of him clashing with her own natural cold - two contrasts exploding together to create something powerfully intoxicating to them both.

"_We've_ earned it." He growled as his arms ensnared her, tugging her body roughly to him, grip tight as his head tiled to one side and his mouth covered hers, her lips willingly parting to allow his tongue access.

Not that it mattered. Willing or no, he made sure the act held no tenderness, his mouth raping hers, pillaging away all gentleness. His fingers dug into her small shoulders, claws ripping away clothing so he could touch her bare flesh, causing it to break out in goosebumps. His hands were hot, hungry, pawing away at her, clutching, bruising with hard caresses.

He felt insatiable but she did not crack under his pressure, if anything she returned it, her own fingers scratching at him, the sounds of his sweater ripping audible as she tugged at the rough material, her hands darting up under it.

A salacious groan escaped him; it has been far, far too long since he had indulged in something like this. Kissed a woman - at least one that was willing, had felt hands on him that were hungry to touch _him_, hurt him in a sexual way, not killing-you way. 

How could he have forgotten? How could he not have missed it?! But then, Loretta had been a miserable fuck. Samara was her extreme opposite. He could all ready tell. His undead blood was boiling with fervor and parts of him he had thought long dead sprang to life, eager for more, starving, desperate…

But he could not find mere release in the touch or smell of her - it was the taste that was filling him up, driving him over. He searched and devoured her pretty little mouth, plunging deep inside, past the pink lips and tongue, exploring hidden areas, flickering over parts she wasn't even aware could feel so good - the roof of her mouth, along her teeth, hollows of her cheeks - everywhere, nothing left unexplored and ravaged.

Moans peeled out of her and as he continued to get more and more vicious with his kiss, practically sucking the air out of her, she latched her teeth on to his lip, biting down hard. He let out a cry, broken from his attack and she laughed, the sound deep and husky, curling out of her mouth like wood smoke as she took control.

Her tongue lashed over his wounded lip, drinking in the blood then drove deep into his mouth, subjecting him to her own exploration, the tip of her tongue brushing over his rotted teeth and over his own tongue, massaging it, entwine it with her own and he merely relaxed, grunting like a wounded animal, allowing her this.

But soon enough the balance was equal as things always ended up between them in the end. The kiss mutual, both hungry mouths and tongues working together to devour, search and taste and in this they both realized this was more than a mere kiss but a sealing of their dark, unholy union for all time.


	36. Author Interview

****

AUTHOR INTERVIEW!

__

Hello, this is Freddy Krueger…or rather, Kora's fucked up- version of me better known as her FreddyMuse, because I inspired her to write 'Nightmare Ring'! Here I have interviewed the lovely author, asking her pointed questions about her story.

Most likely no one will read this interview, thinking, 'who cares?' But for those that do, what lies ahead is a fascinating Q&A that may answers many of your questions about the story - -how Kora thought it up, motivations, reasons for certain things, etc. So, if you are one of the few individuals who do care, please read and enjoy…oh god, no one is going to read this, are they?

FM: I think the most important question, and the one on everyone's mind is, are there any plans for a sequel?

K: Oh god yes, LOL. I'd be pretty sadistic to drop things where they are now. This is merely the end of _'Nightmare Ring'_. This was the story to set-up the characters, the situation, _ala_ the bullshit I wanted to push through to get to the sequel, which shall be more action packed.

Less exposition, less human scenes - more killing, more Freddy/Samara which I know is what everyone wants!

__

FM: Any hints on the sequel? Like the name and such?

K: Its going to be called 'Rasen Nightmares'. The Japanese sequel to 'Ringu' was entitled 'Rasen', which in Japanese (according to Ringworld) is 'Spiral'. So, 'Spiral Nightmares' is what it is called but 'Rasen' sounds much closer and once again holds homage to the films.

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FM: What's going to happen?!

K: LOL, if I told you that you wouldn't read it!

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FM: Please, some spoilers! If you don't, you knoooow what could happen ::flashes glove::

K: Oh fine! Well, I can tell you now that there are things that are obviously left unresolved from _Nightmare Ring_. Good example, Michael, Maggie's fiancée, has yet to show up. Second, I said I'd bring in Rachel and Aidan from the 'Ring' and I meant it! Samara deserves revenge on her survivors too! Also, I have yet to explain everything about dream angels/demons, my take on the dreamworld, etc.

__

FM: About that, 'Dream Angels'?!

K: Yes, I thought it sounded stupid too, I even had one of the characters comment on it in that chapter but since the dream demons were all ready injected into the Freddyverse thanks to _'Freddy's Dead'_, I figured why not? In fact, I was surprised it was so well received by my reviewers. I expected boos and hisses and rolling of eyes but they stood behind me. ::weeps:: It makes me real happy they trust me.

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FM: So you're building a mythology here…

K: Yes, I'm saying that the dreamworld is just that - a world all its own. That's why the dreamscape has so much in it - it is similar to our world. I liken it to another dimension.

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FM: And what about that Dreammaster? Where is he?

K: All I can say is, sequel.

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FM: So there'll be more about the dream angels/demons, in the sequel?

K: Oh you bet! How can I finish my mythology without explaining it! LOL. 

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FM: So if you used one word to describe the sequel…

K: Mysticism. That's what it is all about. Let's just say the demons and angels have their own plans…

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FM: I am very excited.

K: ::shifts uncomfortably:: You can put the glove down now.

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FM: Oh, sorry about that ::under breath, 'not really':: so, tell us, when did you think up this story?

K: After watching F vs. J about six times and my friend Christie falling in love with Freddy, I figured it was time to give him a girl. I listened to the soundtrack almost every day and Blank Theory's song, 'Middle of Nowhere', really hit me, as I had yet to actually listen to it (there are 20 something tracks on that CD!!) I thought it sounded kind of watery in the beginning for some reason - it made me recall that Creed video where the dude played drums in water - anyway, long story short, water=Samara. And then I thought, well, she's a kid and Freddy loves the children…

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FM: So you did a one-shot?

K: Yes, that is all I had intended, even though I had thought up this whole story behind it. I was scared to write in this genre - to touch Nightmare fics. I had read what Neph had done and thought to myself 'I can never do _that'_, so I posted a one-shot, figuring maybe if people took to it, I'd write more. I was happy to see they did - and they stuck out through all 35 chapters! Thanks!! ::hugs::

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FM: 35 fucking chapters…

K: Yeah, I meant for less, shooting for twenty but things kept going on and barreling out of my control…

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FM: Humph, I'll say! Now about Samara becoming a teen…

K: I didn't want to push any pedophilic buttons with people, so I had her possess Becca. 'Sides, she looks so much like her and I think the actress who plays Becca is pretty!

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FM: Hmm, now how about the return of all those survivors…

K: I like movies that wrap up loose ends. Alice, Jacob, Maggie - they were all loose ends. Now, personally, I do not like ANY of the people in Freddy films save Freddy (though I'll admit a perchance to Nancy, Gill - he IS fucking Johnny Depp, Will, and Kia) and had had plans to kill ALL survivors but in writing them I did start to grow rather fond of them. Not that that means in anyway they are safe…

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FM: Alice…

K: Yes, I hated her in the movies but in writing her I started to care for her. Still killed her though.

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FM: Hmm, and Lori and Doc?

K: I hated both of them, especially Lori! HOW I hate Lori…

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FM: What is it with you and Will?

K: I think Jason Ritter is hot, I thought his Dad was hot when he was younger (rest in peace John! I miss you!) I'll admit Will had his whiny, irritating moments in F vs. J but over all I enjoyed his character and decided to build on him. Not to mention I started the whole Will/Samara/Freddy triangle…

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FM: Differences in those relationships?  
K: Freddy gives Samara passion and excitement - Will offers a safe, simple love. Both are nice and frankly, I love both couples almost the same but I lean towards one more than the other…

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FM: Freddy and Samara?

K: You better believe it! They belong together. They compliment each other, they're 'it'.

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FM: Angela…

K: I felt bad for Will and wanted to give him someone. Again, something for the sequel, but it was hinted at here anyway, so just so you all know, don't be surprised to see a quadrangle - Freddy/Samara/Will/Angela.

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FM: NO, I was asking about Angela and you cut me off! ::flashes her the middle finger::

K: ::rolls eyes:: Oh please. Fine. Angela is played by a girl from 'Days of our lives', how could I resist tossing her in?

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FM: She sure was crazy. Going on and on about the glove…

K: Yes, I'm sorry I kept beating that issue over and over but what can I say? She's obsessed! And I also wanted to show her as foil to Samara, having been in the mental house herself. Will was also similar in the fashion, but his foil was closer to Samara as he started to fall for her.

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FM: So what was the deal with Samara at the end?

K: I wrote Samara like Phoenix in 'X-Men' for those who read comics. She started out being so fresh and new to human experiences that they overwhelmed her and she became Dark Phoenix. Same happened to Samara, she realized all the power she had and it sort of overwhelmed her. Made her unleash it and go crazy - that and shows of power are real cool. Imagine the FX if this were a film…

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FM: She kicked Freddy's ass at the end!

K: And I apologize for those who object to that but think about it, she has telekinesis. It's sort of hard to fight that - it's the movement of objects after all and I went with the theory that she wouldn't be stupid enough to fight Freddy hand to hand 'cause then she'd lose so she kept him away from her using the water. Hence why, when she dropped her guard for that split second, he killed her.

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FM: Just telekinesis?

K: No, actually she has a slew of powers - something again for the sequel. I guess I'll drop another spoiler now and say the sequel has a LOT to do about Samara and her past. Some of it is even hinted in the video in Ch. 5 that she made for the survivors. Remember, the images she uses are always clues. Or did no one catch that Paige's death was very similar to one of the scenes on the tape?

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FM: Freddy forgave Samara pretty quickly…

K: She offered to save her life! Not to emotion that I think he has feelings for her.

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FM: Feelings? Freddy?

K: If he can get angry and scared (we saw his eyes when he saw Jason) and all that, then he can care for something - and actually, I don't even classify it as care so much as obsess. See, here's where we get in to my compliments to Neph. I can't help but bow to her, basically because I am an affirmed Mary Sue hater but I actually enjoy Jade. 

And what's more, I enjoy Neph's views on a Freddy companion - she chose to view it as an issue of control - something which I have stolen in many ways. 

She made Freddy and Jade's relationship masochistic, pointing out there is no way someone of Freddy's nature could fall in love - he controls Jade, she hangs on his every whim and word - when he abuses her she thinks either she deserves it or she enjoys it, it's not a bad idea. 

As for me, I stole her idea and flipped it on its side. Freddy wants to control Samara but he can't, she's has too much willpower and that fact, plus her similarities to him and her own unique viciousness, attract him even more - drawing him in, which makes you question who controls who. (I had this convo with Draca once! ;-)

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FM: Interesting; now throughout this story you have used lyrics. Do you have a soundtrack you used to write this story?

K: You bet! All ready working on the sequel's soundtrack too but for this one…

Nightmare Ring

Blank Theory - Middle of Nowhere

Sevendust - Enemy

Korn - Trash

Puscifer - REV 20:20

Metallica - St. Anger

Drowning Pool - Tear Me Away

Cold - Suffocate

Curve - Hell Above Water 

Delirium w/Sarah McLachlan - Silence

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FM: About Mary-Sues…

K: I hate them. But I need them so they can die. Hence Paige and Disher!

__

FM: Cameos?

K: Some of the College victims were from other horror films: 

Julie James : I Know What You Did Last Summer - haha, my revenge on Jennifer Love Hewitt!

Dwight Riley: Dewey from the 'Scream' films.

Sara Moyer: Halloween Resurrection

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FM: Anything you'd like to change?

K: So much! I wanted a part where Freddy says something like he should have had Samara's mom join him instead of her as Samara's mom is a child killer like he is, then Samara would get all mad. Maybe in the sequel…

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FM: It is my understanding from a reliable source that you changed things, can you tell us about that?

K: Yes, originally I had Tracy in the story, she will now be in the sequel - same for Rachel, Aidan, and Michael…ohh, the body count grows bigger.

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FM: Speaking of, your approach to Freddy's killing…

K: I wanted him to be scary and ruthless - I didn't want the flashy jokes as much as the quick deaths like in the first film. I wanted him to be a force to be reckoned with and not some one-liner joke as he had become in previous films. Like when they had him rip off Jaws in I think it was either NOES 4 or 5 with Alice, so not cool.

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FM: Any chapters in particular that you love?

K: I liked 11, when Becca died. I like 13 when Samara first appears. I like 20 through 23 as I have all those kills in a row and any part where Samara and Freddy were _intimate_, I liked.

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FM:: shifts uncomfortably:: Okay, we've entered that scary point. So at the end of 'Nightmare Ring' did Samara and Freddy do it and you just back out like a wuss?

K:::frowns at word choice:: No, actually that is all they do - kiss. I'm saving all smut for the sequel - in fact I have a few steamy scenes in mind…in the sequel they will be very couply but not sickeningly so.

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FM: All right, well I want to hurry up and do some killing so I think it's time we conclude this interview, thanks for your time and keep writing.

K: Oh I will, as long as you, and all my sweet reviewers keep inspiring and supporting me!

Before I close though, I would like to thank the following for reviewing! Thanks guys, I couldn't have done it without you and your kind words! Like I said, keep on reading and writing!


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